Only The Good
by The Magnificent Kiwi
Summary: Jesse and Suze think they have all the time in the world. But it never occured to them that their relationship could cost them their lives. And with Paul's former obsession acting as an open wound to a dangerous ghost, it's only a matter of time...
1. Prologue

**When sharing mediating duties, Jesse and Suze come across a desperate ghost trying to avenge her boyfriend's untimelydeath, with great cost to herself. It stuns them how similar the ghosts' relationship is to their own, and causes them to re-evaluate their situation. Set after Twilight.**

**Only the Good**

_**Prologue -Sunday Dinner**_

If I told you that seeing ghosts doesn't still give me the willies sometimes, I would be lying. It's alright when they shimmer into view right infront of me, because at least then I get some kind of warning. But not this time. It would have been alright even if they had materialized behind me when I was gazing at my reflection in the mirror, trying to fix whatever was up with my hair that day. But oh, no. This one had to appear on my window seat (which had remained unoccupied ever since Jesse and Spike left), sobbing, so that when I walked out of my bathroom, I jumped a mile.

"Holy-" I exclaimed, stopping myself from cursing just in time. "Don't _DO_ that!" The ghost, however, just continued to sob. It was a young girl, not much older than Jesse. Her long, auburn hair fell loosely on her shoulders and her dark blue eyes were bloodshot from the tears.

"What do you want?" I demanded, a little more harsh than I had intended. But this girl had scared the bejeesus out of me. She just gazed up at me, her eyes all teary and her expression folorn.

"Not guilty," she whispered, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her sweater.

"Sorry?" I asked as gently as I could. She just stared at me, the same way that David's mom had all those months ago.

"He's not guilty!" And on that note, she vanished. I just sighed and flopped down onto my bed. Sometimes I wish they would be a little bit more clear. I mean, last time, I had mistaken the person the spirit was talking about and ended up bein forced into a red bathing suit by a psychopathic serial killer. Nuh-uh, not again.If I had got it right that time, I wouldn't have had to ruin my batgirl boots by jumping into the killer's brother's pool. Never mind that fact that his gorgeous son wouldn't have had to move away, leaving me once again dateless. Until the whole incident with Paul, however.

As much as I had hated that guy, he ended up giving Jesse and I everything we had always wanted (although, only because he screwed up...or maybe that was me? I don't like to think about it too much); me, a live boyfriend and him, a life. Although Jesse kept insisting that I was all he ever wanted. I would never forget the day that he woke up in the hospital, alive but very much confused. When he got over the inital shock, and was able to talk again, he had told me that the thing that made him most happy wasn't the fact that he was alive, but the fact that he was now able to give me everything that I needed. Such as a boyfriend with a pulse...someone to grow old with. I don't know how many times I had to drill it into his skull that those things didn't matter to me. That I would rather die an old, wrinkled, childless bachelor as long as it meant spending eternity with him. Although I don't think he would have hung around after I started to shrivel like a prune. Even though our relationship when he was a ghost wasn't all that physical, it probably still would have grossed him out. Not that our relationship had picked up much since he got his body and his life back. Even as a man of flesh and bone, his virtues remained the same, and everytime we kissed and he got carried away (which was practically every time), he apologised non-stop until I assured him that he hadn't offended me in any way. That guy's gonna take some work, I tell you.

My musings on my very strange relationship were interrupted by a knock on my bedroom door. The knock was followed by a head topped with fiery red hair emerging from the gap between the door and the frame. It was David, my youngest stepbrother. Even though he knew that Jesse was alive now, and that our house was no longer haunted, he still felt nervous about enterng my room uninvited. Like I could blame him, I mean the kid had walked in on me doing what it must have looked like making out with thin air.

"Um...Jesse is here," he said, blushing slightly as he always did when mentioning my boyfriend's name. I smiled in return. Of course. Jesse had told me the night of the Winter Formal dance that Andy had invited him over for Sunday lunch. Jesse couldn't make it the Sunday after the dance, but he promised to attend the next feast. Which was now. I was slightly worried, I admit, of what Jesse would make of Andy's dinner. Andy, bless his soul, had tried his best to make Jesse feel at home by creating a Mexican-themed dinner. Thank God he gave the Somberos a miss. I told him that Jesse was American, although he did have Spanish lineage, but he had insisted on the Mexican food. I also had to point out that the food was Mexican and Jesse wasn't, but Andy had just replied "Well, It's close enough" and continued cooking.

Which brings me to another thing. Father Dominic had succeeded in getting Jesse a birth certificate. Only he was Registered as Jesse de Silva, not Hector de Silva, which would have no doubt raised a few eyebrows, what with the skeleton that had been found in our garden months ago. I don't even know if anyone even recalls finding a skeleton in the garden, what with me accidentaly bringing Jesse's body back to the twenty-first century with me. All I knew was that there was a grave in the Mission cemetary that bore the words _'Here lies Hector 'Jesse' de Silva, beloved son, brother and friend'_. Whether that grave was empty, or contained the skeleton of Felix Diego (whom Jesse fought to the deathback in 1850), I would never know. What I did know is that the $3000 that I had spent on the headstone never reterned to me. Much to my chagrin.

Anyway, according to the birth certificate, Jesse de Silva was born June 14th (his actual birthday) 1986, making him 20 years old. Father Dominic had also faked school records for him, as he was well aware that Jesse was up-to-date on modern education, having read not only every book in my house, but also every book in the Mission's (not to mention Father Dominic's) library. And he was getting started on the local library.

Father Dominic had persuaded Jesse to enrol in the Junipero Serra Mission Academy (in the senior year, of course) just so that he could study for his SATs with the guidance of the school's many teachers. And, of course, experience modern culture first-hand.( Did you honestly think that Father D would drop him in the deep end and send him straight to college without helping him find his feet first?) No-one had seemed to mind much, after having found out (of course, he hadn't yet started attending, since it was the winter holiday). The girls in the senior year were apparantly delighted at the prospect of having a gorgeous latino in their class. I made it clear to them at the winter formal that they couldn't lay a finger on him. Hah, I'd like to see them try. I've kicked the crap out of countless angry ghosts, not to mention electrocuted a crazy murderer, I'm sure I can handle a few senior girls. Even Paul seemed fine with Jesse's enrollment, having happily accepted the fact that Jesse and I were the 'real deal'. They still weren't what you'd call buddies. I mean, after what Paul did to Jesse (and me), there was no way that those two would ever get on.

As I made my way downstairs, David leading the way, I couldn't help but grin to myself. I mean, after 17 years of hell, things were finally starting to look up for me.

When I got to the dining room, Jesse was already seated and talking - to my complete and utter amazement - to Jake. From what I could tell, Jake was trying to explain the finer points of surfing. I could tell by Jesse's expression that he didn't understand a word that was coming out of my stepbrother's mouth, but being the gentleman that he is, he nodded every now and then. I was surprised at how much my stepbrothers had warmed to him, well David and Jake anyway, Brad was just peeved that he no longer had anything to blackmail me with. My mom wasn't to sure about him at first, what with his age and everything, but once they got talking, she was telling me how wonderful and polite he was. Yeah, so polite that he apologises everytime he touches his girlfriend below the neck. It's not so good in that sense. Andy, of course, loved him. Even more so after Andy had handed out the food and he hadpraised him on how good it was. Jake simply replied with a slurred remark about how his dad could make even the worst food taste good.

"So, how have you been holding up?" I asked Jesse once my family stopped throwing questions at him. He didn't answer for a few seconds as he tried to figure out what I had said (I had been trying to teach him the modern lingo, so to speak) and then smiled.  
"I'm fine, _querida_." I tried not to go all gooey when he smiled the way he did when he called me that, but I couldn't help it. And to think that once upon a time, I had warned him not to call me _querida_.

"Have you had any, you know...visits yet?" I enquired, keeping my voice hushed so that no-one could hear me. I doubt that they would have if I'dyelled, it was that noisy.

"One or two," he said, cutting up something that I didn't recognise. "Just messages I had to to pass on." I laughed.

"You've had it easy so far,then," I replied with an amused grin on my face. "But it's only a matter of time until you get a Heather on your case." I was, obviously, referring to the first ghost (well, second if you count Jesse) that I had met in Carmel; the crazed ghost of a cheerleader who had killed herself after her boyfriend dumped her. It all ended in me having to exorcise her (which she did not take kindly to) and then getting crushed when she brought the breezeway down on top of me. Some people just don't appreciate the work I do for them.

"When are we to let Father Dominic know about my...um...abilities?" He asked. I paused, fork halfway to my mouth. I had tried to persuade Jesse not to talk to Father Dominic about his being a mediator yet. Mostly because Father Dom prefers to talk than fight, which has put him in hospital a fair few times. While most ghosts will have a problem with attacking a 60-something-year-old Catholic priest, I didn't think they would hesitate to attack a fit, healthy 20-year-old guy. Even though I knew that Jesse was capable of taking care of himself. Back when he as alive he had wrestled his would-be murderer to the death, and I had seen the ferocity he had attacked some ghosts with, back when he was one. Then again, these ghosts _were _trying to kill me. I just felt that he might hesitate, and this hesitation wouldcause him to once again resume his ghostly form. I figured after a few hands-on mediating tasks, Father Dom would be informed. Maybe.

"When you're both ready" I replied with all the sincerity I could muster. I thought about mentoning the sobbing girl in my room, but decided against it. I remember the way he reacted when David's mom had appeared. Besides,he seemed to take more of a passive interest in mediating.

"So, Jesse," I heard my mother say, having laid down her knife and fork, waiting for others to finish. "How did you and Suzie meet?" I nearly choked on my tortilla. "She's been avoiding the question ever since she introduced us."

Jesse threw me an inconspicuous, pleading look.

"Um..." He started. "I actually met her when she moved here. I was on...vacation." He smiled, apparantly pleased with his answer.

"Oh," Andy added. "So you didn't live around here?"

"No, sir." It wasn't actually a lie, either. He hadn't _lived_ around here for 150 years. "I was here for some unfinished business." I couldn't believe how well he was twisting the truth. I had never known Jesse to lie before. "But it's finished now. I had a chance to go back where I belonged, but I wanted to stay here with Susannah."

"Aww, isn't that sweet, honey?" My mom cooed. I don't know what was more disgusting, the fact that she said that Jesse was sweet, or the fact that she had called my stepfather 'honey'. I saw her place her hand over Andy's when she said 'honey'. It was then that I felt a hand over my own. At first I thought it was Brad, with him sitting the other side of me, but thank God it was Jesse. He smiled down at me and said softly "see, I didn't even have to lie".

It was my turn to put the dishes away this week, but Jake volunteered on behalf of Jesse being here. It wasn't fair, brothers are meant to me mean and threaten to beat your boyfriends up. Not, as Jake was doing, invite them surfing and be all nice to you. You know, I couldn't imagine Jesse surfing. It was strange enough seeing him dressed in modern clothes (like right now he wore jeans and a pale blue Ralph Lauren shirt - I hadbought him a whole wardrobe once he had left the hospital Imean, he couldn't exactly wear his cowboyish get-up now, could he?and even when it comes to other people I still seem to have a weakness for designer labels), let lone riding the waves down at the beach. Though any excuse for him to take his shirt off would be good. He's rather reserved, if you know what I mean. But he's catching on to the ways of modern society fast enough.

I was about to stand up when yet more questions were fired in our direction.

"So, what about your family?" Brad asked, joining in. Jesse glanced at me.

"Dead," he replied in a tone that stated 'and I don't want to talk about it'. I was sure Brad was going to reply until David pretended to choke. Brad thumped him on the back, a little harder than he should have an I took the opportunity to make up a lame excuse about needing some help on my homework and leading Jesse upstairs. Before I left, I heard my mom scolding Brad "you've probably upset the poorboy now". I noticed that she always used the term 'boy' when talking about Jesse. As if to convince herself that that's what he was; a boy, not a 20-year-old (alright, 170-year-old, but she didn't need to know that) young man who was dating her 17-year-old daughter.

"Thank God for that," I said, bursting into a fit of giggles as soom as we entered my room. My family can be a bit overwhelming sometimes. A quick glance at my clock told me that we had been downstairs for two whole hours.

"Jesse, I think we need to talk," I spoke, once my giggles had subsided. He raised the scarred eyebrow at me questiongly.

"You mean talk or 'talk'?" He asked, genuinely confused. I laughed again.

"Talk." I said. "About mediating. Before father D gets to you."

"Ah, I was waiting for this." He sat down on my bed beside me. "How do I say it? Shoot?" I smiled and nodded.

"Father D believes that mediators should talk things through with spirits." I began. "Which is, you know, fine, as long as the ghost is willing to co-operate. But there are people like Craig Jankow and Heather Chambers who are too far gone to talk. Now, when something like this happens, we have to kick butt. And I mean serious butt, because if we don't they will kick ours." Jesse was nodding, but I could tell that he wasn't listening. Sure, he was staring at my lips, but he just wasn't hearing what was coming out of them.

"Jesse!" I cried, and his gaze darted up to meet my eyes.

"I'm listening," he assured me. I just sighed and continued.

"I need to know that you will be ok with this...that you won't expect every ghost to be all nice and polite to you. Some of them will hurt you, and you aren't invincible anymore."

"So you are worried about losing me again, is that it?" He smiled again, obviously amused by everything that I was saying.

"Of course I am!" I mean, how could I not be. Now that he was flesh and blood and there wasn't much anyone could do to get rid of him, short of murder, but I still worried about him. "After everything that we've been through, everything-" I was cut short as he placed one hand on my neck and pulled me towards him, the other reaching down towards my waist. Then, more to shut me up I guess, he kissed me. Now I know it was unfair of him to cut me off like that, but I couldn't exactly stop him and tell him off, could I? OK, so I could, but the truth is that I didn't want to. I mean, this is the guy I have been hopelessly in love with for the past year. He was perfect; kind, caring, protective...and gorgeous to boot. I pulled myself closer to him, feeling myself melting into his arms, and reached down for the hand at my waist. Right then, I didn't care if he was a gentleman, I was just going to have to teach him how not to be. So, my hand on his, I guided it upwards. He broke off the kiss when he felt it had gone far enough and said "Susannah-" but now it was my turn to cut him off.

"Jesse, don't even bother." I said flatly, pulling him close to me again with my free hand. I guess he had finally given up, since he started to kiss me back again, but then I heard it again. It caused us both to jump. Jesse pulled back, removing his hands from me and turning to look at the source of the noise. I looked, too, to find that the crying girl was once again occupying my window seat.

"Look, missy," I said, frustrated as hell. "This is not a good time!" But did she care? Did she hell! This time she was looking at Jesse...she had obviously come to him now.

"He didn't do it!" she wailed, tears streaming down her rosy, glowing cheeks. "He died for it but it wasn't him!"

"Who?" Jesse asked in a cool, calm, collected voice I guessed was his 'mediating' voice.

"MyStanley," she sniffed. "He died for trying to protect me."

"Stanley? What did he do?" Jesse asked in his mediating voice. But this just upset the already devastated woman.

"Nothing!" She screamed and then vanished.

"Jeez, I thought you would have gotten the message" I chuckled, then looked away when I saw that Jesse didn't appreciate my joke.

"We have to help her." He said, standing up. I laughed again, obviously much to Jesse's annoyance.

"Sorry," I apologised, "but I don't have a clue what she's talking about! Do you know how many Stanley's there must be living in and around Carmel?"

"That's no problem," he told me. "We just need to find one who died recently."

Ok, my teaching him about my ways of mediating? Yeah, not such a good idea.

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**A/N - My first Mediator story :). My first story in a while, actually. Reviews will be much appreciated.**

**Disclaimer -I don't own the Mediator series, or any of the characters (though I wouldn't mind Jesse), and I don't own Ralph Lauren. Or Mexican food...which I don'treally like.**


	2. The ties that bind

**Only The Good**

_**Chapter One - **The ties that bind_

_When it comes to love  
I may not know the rules  
But there's one thing I know  
My heart belongs to you, just you_

**_Rascal Flatts - Like I Am_**

It was still Sunday, though barely. Jesse and I had spent hours rummaging through newspapers, reading the obituaries. I couldn't believe it; we had been through practically every single Northern California newspapers published in the past week, and we couldn't find a single Stanley that fit the bill. Oh, there were a few Stanleys. Like Stanley Reichman, a German professor who passed away peacefully in his sleep a month after moving out to be near his grandchildren. Then there was Stanley Baker, a Priest in Salinas who had lost a long fight with cancer. All of these Stanleys were too old.

"Maybe," Jesse suggested, "He didn't die recently. I was here for 150 years, remember?" I sighed. I had explained it to him before. I was his unfinished business. He was meant to die, one way or another, to be with me. Just like my father remained here for 10 years to ensure that we got together. Madame Zara was right about two things; I was a mediator, and I would only have one love, but it would last for all eternity. Jesse was that love, I knew it from the moment I fell for him. I knew that I would never feel that way about anyone ever again.

"Did you see his girlfriend's clothes?" I asked. "I highly doubt that was what they wore back in the wild west. And she said that he died trying to protect her-" Jesse held up a hand to silence me.

"No she didn't. She said that he died _for _trying to protect her. Tell me, Susannah, are criminals still executed?"

"Oh my God, some of them are. Do you think-?"

"That her Stanley was executed for her murder?" I was finally beginning to understand. But great, it meant that we had yet anotherpissed off ghost roaming around somewhere.

"So, where do we find out who has been executed recently?" Jesse mumbled, still flicking through an old edition of The Carmel Times. I stood up and pulled my laptop out from underneath my bed. Well, it was David's old laptop which he had kindlygiven me. Thank God it had a wireless internet connection.

I pulled up a search engine and typed in 'Stanley execution'. Instantly, I was provided with hundreds of hits. I didn't need to search further than the front page, however, as the first link took me straight to a Carmel newspaper website.

MORSE EXECUTED FOR STUDENT'S MURDER.

Beneath the headline was a picture of Stanley Morse (or so the caption told me). He couldn't have been older than 25. He was kind of good-looking, if you ignored how dishevelled he looked. He had mid-length brown hair and matching brown eyes. I scrolled down to find another picture with the caption 'Layla Anderson, 21,the victim of Morse's attack'. It was the girl from my bedroom. She looked far happier in this picture, however.

"Well?" Jesse asked. "What does it say?"

"Um...Former Hartford patient Stanley Morse was last night executed for the murder of his lover, 21-year-old NoCal student Layla Anderson. Layla met Morse when she worked as a volunteer for Hartford psychiatric hospital three years ago. At the time, Morse was a patient undergoing therapy for paranoid schizophrenia and signs of borderline personality disorder. The pair struck up a friendship, corresponding via letters after her volunteer work had been completed. After their initial meeting, Morse began to make great progress in his treatment and was released three months ago, having been declared 'cured'. He moved to Carmel, California, to live with Anderson and friends and family reported them as being 'a blissfully happy couple'. But four weeks ago, police received a 911 call from a jogger who heard screaming in trees beside the infamous Point. Officers arrived on the scene within 5 minutes to find Morse holding Anderson's dead body and muttering to himself. Morse was arrested and, despite his mental state, sentenced to death by lethal injection. When asked to comment, authorities claimed 'We have no reason to believe that Morse was mentally disturbed in any way at the time the murder was comitted'. At the trial, Morse remained silent and spoke only to declare his innocence." I scrolled further down, but there was no more information.

"He killed her?" Jesse said. It was a rhetorical question. "If he loved her, then how could he kill her?" I felt his hand on my arm as he said this.

"According to her, he didn't," I reminded him. "According to Layla, he was trying to protect her." There was silence for a few moments as Jesse was abviously trying to adjust to what he had just heard. "Although it is strange how he suddenly started to recover when he met her...it's almost as if-" Then it hit me. I had known something like this happen once before, but with a child. Little Jack Slater.

I tore myself away from the computer, and from Jesse, and grabbed the phone. Thank God she answered after only a few rings.

"Hello?" She was obviously tired, but at that moment I had other things to worry about.

"CeeCee, I need your help." I told her. "I need you to try and get me information about an old Hartford patient."

"Hey, Suze." She replied, sleepily. "Do you mean the mental asylum? Isn't that information classified?" I groaned.

"Yeah, but it should be a lot easier seeing as the patient I have in mind was supposedly cured. And he was arrested, so police should have copies of this record. You work for the school paper, all you need to do is call them and say that you are writing a story about it." I heard CeeCee sigh. It was obvious that she would rather be sleeping.

"I guess," she yawned. "What's the patient's name?"

"Um...Stanley Morse."

"You mean as in the crazy murderer?" She exclaimed.

"Calm down, CeeCee. I just need the information. Call me when you get it." I hung up. I wasn't in the mood to argue with her.

"What is it, _querida_?" Jesse enquired, helping me up from the floor and onto my bed, where he sat beside me.

"I don't know," I replied, honestly for once. "It's just...odd how he suddenly started to recover when he met her. I remember when I babysat Jack Slater. His parents were convinced that there was something wrong with him. The poor kid was terrified to go outside. Then I told him what he was, and that the ghosts didn't want to harm him...well most of them, anyway...and then he was fine. What if Stanley was a mediator? And Layla? It's strange that someone can go 25 years without knowing why the ghosts came to them, but it could happen."

By now, Jesse had moved closer to me, his arm around my shoulders. I leaned into him, and every thought of Stanley and Layla seemed to evaporate from my mind. All that mattered were the two of us. I thought of how lucky I was to have him. Jesse isn't like most guys; he respects my feelings, and would go to any length to protect me. The only time I felt one hundred percent safe was in his arms. I knew that as long as he didn't let go, nothing could harm me.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew it was morning and something was slobbering all over me. I reached up and tried to push it away, but it just kept coming back. I opened my eyes to see a huge, black nose blocking my view of anything else.

"Eww, Max, gerroffme!" I mumbled, pushing the big hairy thing to the floor and sitting upright. I used the corner of my blanket to wipe the drool from my face. This was one reason I wished my room was still haunted. Once the drool was gone, I realised that my blanket had been folded up underneath my bed. I smiled when I realised that Jesse must have laid me down and covered me with it once I had dozed off. Looking around, I could see that he had also tidied all of the papers away. He had probably taken them all back to the library, too because the boxes they came in were also missing.

"Max! Max!" I heard Brad scream. He wandered into my room, saw the dog and then looked at me.

"Where's loverboy?" He sneered. I threw a pillow at him but he didn't leave.

"I heard him in here last night. What were you two up to?" He demanded. I had no idea why he was acting like this.

"Nothing...we were just doing some research for a story for the school paper," I lied. "CeeCee asked me to help her out, and Jesse is helping me out." Brad just kept looking at me inquisitively.

"He's probably working now." I told him. I remembered that Father Dom helped secure Jesse a part-time job. Jesse gave talks on old Carmel at the Historical Society. But it wasn't like he could do that for twelve hours a day. He talked on Saturday afternoons and Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday evenings. Through the church, Father Dom gave him financial aid until he found his feet. But the Society paid him a lot for what he did. The tourists (and other Carmel residents) believed that his father was a local history buff. If only they knew.

"The curator down at themuseam is ill, so Jesse is helping him out." I stifled a yawn.

Brad continued to stare at me. I waved my hand a few times and he blinked, shook his head and dragged Max out of the room. I had figured what he was up to. Since he could no longer blackmail me about having a secret boyfriend, he was looking for evidence that we had done the nasty so that he could blackmail me with that instead. His search, sadly, would be in vain. Jesse would want a marriage certificate before anything like that happened. Which, in a way, I was thankful for. It would mean waiting a while, but at least it gave me time to figure out how to explain contraception to him. Not what it was - he'd probably read something about it - but more, um...how to use it. I could just picture myself trying to explain condoms to him. Very embarassing.

I shook my head to get rid of that highly embarassing scenario when the phone rang. I grabbed it before anyone downstairs could answer it.

"Hey Suze, it's just me," CeeCee spoke. I remembered about my late-night request. I honestly hadn't expect her to know by..._Eleven o'clock_! I'd slept in that long?

"I, um, asked my contacts at the Pine Cone to get me the information and they just e-mailed it to me."

"Uh-huh?" I was eager to hear what she had to say.

"Well, apparantly this Morse guy had been undergoing intense psychotherapy since he was ten. He started to get worse when he got into his late teens, and was admitted to Hartford shortly after his twentieth birthday. Get this, though...He claimed that he could see people. Dead people. Ghosts. Of course, he was diagnosed with schizophrenia. He became withdrawn and apparantly started to self-harm. But one thing the staff couldn't explain was how he managed to self harm overnight when he was locked in a padded cell wearing a strait jacket. Do you think he was a mediator, like you?"

I had, of course, fulfilled my promise to CeeCee and explained everything about Jesse and being a mediator. I also had to explain everything to Gina when my mom answered the phone once and started saying how proud she was that her baby had a boyfriend. Needless to say, she wasn't too pleased when she found out that it was him who covered her clothes in nail polish the last time she came to stay.

"It's likely," I told CeeCee. And it would explain a lot. So, if this guy was a mediator, it was likely that Layla had been, too. I said goodbye to CeeCee and tried to call Jesse. I missed not having him appear by my side when I thought about him. He didn't answer. Not even at the museam. I figured he had probably went to speak to Father D, but no problem, I could handle this on my own. So I called Layla.

"Did you find them?" She asked, appearing beside me. This time, she wasn't crying. If anything, her expression was hopefull. I shook my head, having no idea who she was talking about and asked her about Stanley and whether or not he was a mediator. She simply smiled.

"Stanley was gifted." She told me. "He was a gentle soul, he wouldn't hurt a fly. But because he didn't understand his abilities, it affected his mental health. Everything terrified him. He didn't know why these apparitions were appearing to him. He was scared. When I met him, I knew there was something unique about him. Then one day when I took him for a walk outside, a spirit appeared to us. It screamed at him, and he panicked. He pleaded with it to leave him alone. So, I dealt with it and told him not to fear them. He told me that that particular spirit used to hurt him at night. It was an evil spirit. I managed to get it to leave and eventually exorcised it." She began pacing my room, tears once again streaming down her face. "I taught him everything that I knew about people like us, and he got better. In fact, they finally decided that he was well enough to leave. He was still scarred in some way, but I was there for him. We lived together and loved each other. Then, one day, my ex-boyfriend turned up. He was an asshole, but I had no idea how bad he really was. He hated Stanley for making me happy, and he wanted to hurt us both, but I didn't know that. He just kept threatening to get Stanley locked up again. I thought they were hollow threats. He drove me out to the point one night and said that he needed to talk to me. We talked, then we argued. And he attacked me. I managed to escape into the trees, but he caught me again. He started hitting me and he wouldn't stop." By now, Layla was crying so hard she had to sit down on my bed. "I-I tried to fight back, but he was too strong. The last thing I remember was hearing Stanley shouting. He attacked my ex, but the coward ran off. I remember h-him holding me, telling me that I w-would be alright, then I couldn't remember anything. I didn't even realise that I was dead. I-I returned home and Stanley wasn't there. Th-then the police broke down the door and started looking through our stuff. I s-screamed at them, but they couldn't hear me. They were even walking right through me. So I followed them back to the station and saw my poor Stanley locked up in a cell like some sort of animal. My blood was all over his shirt still, and I called his name. We talked for hours. I stayed with him until his court date. I thought that they would lock him up again, but I had no idea that they were going to execute him! I was devestated. He didn't even defend himself, just told them that he was innocent. He told me that nothing mattered anymore, he just wanted to be with me again.I wandered around aimlessly for days, and then on the day of his execution, I held his hand. Then, I decided that we needed a mediator. Stanley wasn't guilty, and the whole world should know the truth!"

I looked at the poor girl, feeling pity towards her. I knew how she felt. She found her one true love and he was cruelly snatched from her. And now she was risking everything to save his immortal soul. When Maria took Jesse from me, the pain was unbearable. The same when I thought I had lost him forever by preventing his death. But in the end, he came back to me. Both times.

"You have your love, Layla," I told her. "Nothing can stop you from loving each other. Not even death." She smiled. Her warm smile broke my heart.

"I wish that were so," she spoke softly. "Just please find my Stanley for me. I fear he may do something...rash." Then she shimmered and dematerialised.

All I could think of was Jesse. I could totally sympathise with Layla. Speaking of Jesse, I needed to find him.

* * *

**AN - Well, I got that one out quick. It's kind of boring, I know, but I just wanted to get the whole Stanley/Layla thing out in the open so I can get into the story with the next chapter. :). Thank you all for the reviews, I've honestly never had 6 reviews in 2 days before since my second Resident Evil story :).**

**Disclaimer- I don't own anything to do with the mediator.**


	3. Angel's Thanatos

**Only The Good**

_**Chapter Two -**Angel's Thanatos_

One drop of love from him  
And my heart's in ecstasy  
The high that is sending me  
Is most likely ending me...  
...Fill up my heart with love  
Oh, you'd be amazed at how little I need from him  
to feel complete here and now  
Stirring within me  
are these feelings I can't ignore  
I need a miracle and that's what I'm hoping for  
**_Akira Yamaoka & Mary Elizabeth McGlynn- I Want Love_**

**AN - The first half of this chapter is in Jesse's POV...just a little experiment :)**

I don't know how long I sat there, holding her. Being with her did that to me; caused me to lose all sense of time and reality. I had never known what love was until I met Susannah. I had never been in love with Maria, despite Susannah's initial belief. So now I sat in her room, a man of flesh and blood, like I had once been, holding her close as she slept in my arms. I quietly lay her down on her bed, realising that her current position must have been uncomfortable (it sure was getting uncomfortable for me, and I don't mean in thepainful sense). She gave a little shiver as I stepped back, so I began to search for a blanket or quilt to cover her with; I couldn't possibly risk waking her by pulling out the duvet she was sleeping on. I found a thin blanket over her bed and placed it over her, pausing briefly to kiss her on the cheek. She was beautiful even when she slept.

I looked around her room, realising what a mess we had both made of it so I began to quickly and quietly place all of the newspapers back into their boxes before piling them all into my car and reurning them to the library (I had no idea that it would be open this late-sorry, early).

It was at least two o'clock before I returned to my apartment. It was still messy, although I had tried to sort everything out. After all, I had lived there for a few weeks now. But somehow I ended up spending all of my spare time with Susannah. I wasn't complaining, though; every moment with her was bliss. The only decoration in my small apartment was a small, framed - what was it called? Ah, yes - photograph of Susannah and I. She looked beautiful, as always, but I just looked...stunned. Susannah begged to differ, however, but she always did.

I didn't sleep much that night; I never did.The first few weeks after I was murdered, I slept every night, even though I didn't need to. Force of habit, I guess. Now it seemed to be working in reverse. At ten o'clock I dressed and drove to the beach. I liked it there, it was peaceful. Of course, it had been there when I was previously alive, but it seemed so much better now. I just hoped that I didn't run into Jake.I don't think I could survive another minute of his running commentary on all things surfing. I did run into Susannah's friend, Adam, however. He knew all about me, of course, about where (or should I say when). I honestly expected him to believe that Susannah was winding him up, but he took the news pretty well.Adam and I had actually become good friends. God knows why; we seem to have conflicting personalities. Perhaps it was our mutual care for Susannah.

"So," he said after running up to me. "Not with Suze today? She blow you off or something? CeeCee was supposed to be here, but she said she had a 'favour' to do someone." He then looked at me thoughtfully. "Wait a moment, does this have to do with a...a...you know..." Despite his acceptance of the whole Mediator thing, Adam still showed some reluctance to mention the 'g' word.

"Maybe," I replied, honestly. "Susannah is working on something and needed some information."

"Awesome. Anything I can do?" Adam hated being left out. But the truth was, he didn't have anything to contribute. No offence to him.Although Susannah did let him deliver a message to a deceased's relative once. It was a shame that the relative didn'tbelieve in ghosts. I don't fully understand some modern insults yet, but from what I gathered, it was a pretty colourful conversation.

"Not really," I answered. "Not yet, anyway. But we are looking in to the possibility that the ghosts were mediators." The colour drained from Adam's face.

"Whoa..._ghost**s**_? As in the plural?" He exclaimed, a little too loudly if you ask me; people started to stare. I held my hands up, glancing around quickly. Susannah taught me that as an effective way for shutting Adam up. We then started to stroll to a fairly quiet area of the beach.

"We're dealing with it! It will all be over soon." Then, attempting to change the subject, I said "so...how are things going with you and CeeCee?" Adam grinned. He was so easy to throw off track.

"Great," he managed to say through his smile. Adam and CeeCee were now a couple, if what Susannah and I saw at the Winter Formal was anything to go by. "She's great. All this time I thought she just had a stupid little crush on me, but I was wrong. I was in denial that I liked her. I mean, she's my best friend, it just seemed...weird." I smiled. I would have made a smart comment, but he probably would have returned the favor. "What about you and Suze? How long have you guys been dating now?"

"Oh, about three months." Had it really been that long? Time flew when we were together.

"Three months? That long?" He seemed surprised. "And I thought she was grumpy 'cause she wasn't getting laid." I automatically stopped in my tracks. If Adam had not been a friend of mine, I probably would havepunched him. He obviously did not see the anger in my eyes, or realise how furious his comment about Susannah made me. He had obviously misunderstood the reason why I had stopped so suddenly.

"Oh, wait...you guys aren't...you know?" I didn't reply, which seemed to answer his question. "Whoa. But you guys are so in love." I had to agree, but in my opinion love was about so much more than sex. "Hey, in your day, three months would probably be the first stage of marriage, right?"

Wrong.

"It isn't like that," I told him. "Not for us." Susannah and I had all the time in the world. Besides, I didn't want to dishonour her. By modern day standards, she was too young for commitment and marriage. It didn't matter what century I was in; I would never disrespect the woman that I loved. Not for cheap thrills. But there was also another side to my beliefs now. When I had been a ghost, every touch had felt like an insult. Especially after Slater's remarks. Back then, I held on to every last minute, terrified that she would find a living boyfriend and leave me. Now, there was really no need.

"Well," Adam started. He paused to think, obviously thinking about what he was about to say. "As long as you know that you love each other. I mean, girls usually need constant reassurance. Even though Suze totally held out on Paul because she fell for you, next time you might not be so lucky."

"What do you mean?" I asked. Adam twisted his face.

"Well...it was all new to her then. It was probably just the thrill of the chase. She loved you, Paul loved her, and she wasn't sure how you felt. Or so I'm told." He sighed. "Some people like going after things that are difficult to get, things that they will never have. Why do you think Paul was so obsessed with her? Anyway, it's a well known fact that feelings change over time. Who's to say that someone else won't come along with more to offer than you have?"

"Susannah isn't like that," I told him, smiling. 'some people', maybe, but not _mi querida_.

"I know," Adam said, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing it. "Just, love isn't self-sufficient. Relationships now are a lot more complicated than they were 150 years ago."

* * *

I found Jesse on the beach. And only by chance. Failing to find him at the historical society, his apartment and the Mission, I decided to join CeeCee at the beach. When I saw him, I attempted to pull him aside, to tell him about what both Layla and CeeCee had told me, but for some reason he was adamant on staying with CeeCee and Adam (yes, when I found him he was talking to Adam! Of all people!). So, I had no choice but to tell him with the couple as witnesses. 

"So, the ex murdered her?" CeeCee asked.

"I don't know. She seems to think so, but there was something in her voice when she spoke."

"Well, she was being murdered, so excuse her if her memoryisalittle hazy," Adam toldus in a mocking tone.

"Only horrifying deaths are 'blocked out'," Jesse spoke. "Otherwise they are perfectly clear." Wow. The question I had never had the guts to ask had just been answered.

"And how would-? Oh." Adam backed off, a sheepish look on his face. "Sorry, I forgot."

"She wants me to find Stanley,"I told the trio. "She thinks that he may do something he will regret. I've tried calling him, but it's no use."

Jesse looked thoughtful for a moment, then spoke his first words in a few minutes.

"Something he will regret? As in kill his girlfriend's murderer?" There was something in his voice, something I couldn't place.

"It's what I would do," Adam agreed. "Do you know his name?"

I shook my head. Layla had neglected to mention the name of her killer. The spooks usually deliver cryptic messages. For once, I would like someone to give me everything straight; allthe facts, nothing left out. For once, I wished that things would be made easy for me.It was then that I looked up to find that my request had been answered.

There, sitting on the fence at the edge of the beach, sat a young man. He looked out to the ocean, either mesmerised by its beauty or contemplating something. Maybe both. But whatever, one thing about this man was certain. He was dead. Executed. How did I know this? Because I had seen his photo on the internet. This man was, unmistakebly, Stanley Morse.

* * *

**AN - There you go, Chapter Two. So, the famous Stanley makes an appearance. What exactly was his involvement in Layla's death?**

**And why does Adam ask such awkward questions? sigh**

**But, more importantly, why the hell are they at the beach in mid-december? No-one knows.**

**Song credits go to composer Akira Yamaoka andvocalist Mary Elizabeth McGlynn for I Want Love (Studio Mix) from the PS2 Game Silent Hill 3. I love that song :). And the title comes from a piece of music from Silent Hill 2. It literally means an Angel's unconcious, self-destructive tendancies. Would fit the next chapter more, but...**

**Disclaimer - You already know that Meg Cabot, and not me, owns everything to do with the mediator. But I own this story, so nyah sticks tongue out. I don't own Silent Hill, either.**


	4. Not Our Time

**Only The Good**

_**Chapter Three -** Not Our Time_

_If only I had more time I'd take you where you wanted to go,_

_Japan is really nice this time of year,_

_If only I had one wish I'd want a million trillion lifetimes that I could spend with you_

_Fall in love with you again and again_

**_The Ataris - Looking Back On Today_**

****

Stanley didn't take his eyes off the sea, even when I approached him. It wasn't until CeeCee and Adam positioned themselves where I told them to (behind Stanley, so it didn't look like I was talking to myself...when on my own in public and faced with a ghost, I pretend to be using my brand new cell phone) and I greeted him, Jesse by my side, that he even aknowledged us. To say that he looked confused was a bit of an understatement.

"You...see me?" He asked, his voice deep yet soft. Up close, Stanley Morse was a very handsome man. Not Jesse-handsome, but good-looking nonetheless. His eyes were very blue and almost unreadable, and his mid-length hair fell across his face. He had nice hair. Jake's colour, but not as...windswept as Jake's always looked.He was obviously wearing the clothes that he wore the night that Layla was murdered; Jeans and a plain white t-shirt under a brown leather jacket.

"Strange as it may seem, yes," I replied politely. Ghosts of wrongly-murdered people tend to be a tad irritable. Like once, back in New York, this guy had been mistaken for someone else, and consequently shot. He tore up half of his murderer's home before I managed to beat him into submission. Thankfully, when the police arrived, they found the murder weapon in the guys house so he was jailed and the crazy ghost moved on. "But I guess I can skip the whole explanation because I'm pretty sure you know what I am."

Stanley nodded, his eyes darting from me to Jesse.

"This is really weird," Adam complained. Stanley spun around and looked questionably at him.

"Shut up," I told Adam. Then, to Stanley, I added "they can't see you."

"Are you...here to help me?" Stanley asked. He had a gentle voice, though he spoke strangely. I guess it was from all of those years of being locked up and tormented by ghosts.

"You and Layla," I replied. At the mention of his lover's name, Stanley twitched. I looked down into his eyes to see that he was on the verge of bursting into tears.

"You have seen her? How is she? Is she alright?" He stood up (he was disconcertingly tall...Jesse's height, so I had to look up to meet his eyes) and placed his hands on my shoulders. I think he would have shook me gently if he hadn't looked at Jesse and removed his hands as if I were on fire. There was a strange look in Jesse's eye now. He hadn't said a thing to this guy yet, and Stanley was being nice to me. So why was he looking at Stanley as though he were Paul?

"Sorry," Stanley said to him. "You are her...boyfriend?" Stanley liked to pause a lot between his words, I realised. He was probably making sure that he didn't say the wrong thing. Jesse simply nodded, which caused Stanley to smile.

"I thought so...I didn't like anybody touching Layla either. Even ghosts." Hmm...an over-protective boyfriend. Where have I seen that scenario before? CeeCee shuddered behind him. I didn't want to remain here too long for her sake.

"Stanley, would you mind coming with us? Somewhere more...private where we can talk?" I asked, as kindly as I could...I was surprising myself. Never before had I been polite to a ghost. Not when they were as rude as possible to me. Like because they're dead they think they're untouchable. Hah! I showed them just how 'untouchable' they were. Stanley said that he didn't mind, as long as we took him to Layla. It was a fair deal, so we left Adam and CeeCee behind and headed to Jesse's apartment.

Layla arrived mere seconds after we entered the small apartment. Jesse had obviously called her. The look in her eyes when she saw Stanley almost broke my heart. He grinned (it was _way_ too big to be a smile) and thre her arms around him. Stanley closed his eyes and buried his face in her neck.

"I was so worried about you," Layla spoke, ever so softly. She was crying again, although gently. I hated to break up this heartwarming scene, but we needed to get down to business.

"Please," I said, not looking at them. I couldn't, it was too much to take. "Tell me everything that happened." The two dead lovers looked at each other and smiled. It was Layla who spoke.

"Well, we met when I was volunteering at Hartford as part of my degree. I knew the moment I saw him that there was nothing wrong with him. So, I volunteered to take him around the grounds. It was then that I found out that he was a mediator, like me. It wasn't long before the staff considered him fit to leave, so I let him live in my apartment with me." Layla paused here, choking back tears, and Stanley squeezed her hand. She composed herself and continued. "The time that we spent together was...magical. I had never felt more wanted in my life. And we no longer had to hide our relationship. When I was a volunteer, I still worked for the hospital, and patient-employee relationships were forbidden. When he was released, I was so happy. We didn't have to hide our feelings anymore." Hmm...kind of like me and Jesse...except he was dead, not a patient in a psychiactric ward. "But as soon as I moved back to Carmel, my ex-boyfriend got on my case. Well, we went on one date, so he wasn't really an 'ex, so to speak. But he still considered himself as my boyfriend. He was obsessed with me...it was terrifying. He was handsome, which just made it even more difficult. He knew that I was in love with Stanley and he hated it, he constantly tried to split us up. He even tried to attack Stanley a few times, but Stanley was too strong for him. He just didn't know when to quit. So, one day, he invited me up to the Point. 'To talk things over', he said. But he just wanted to get me alone. I realised what he was trying to do,but it was too late. He chased me down into the trees, and eventually caught me. I screamed...I couldn't help it. I tried to fight back but he was too strong. That's what was so strange about it...he was always so weak. He just kept hitting me, and hitting me until I couldn't move. I tried to call a ghost, any ghost, but no-one came. Except Stanley. My ex had raised his fist. I knew that one more hit would have killed me. It was obvious that I was already dying. Then, he was thrown to the side. I managed to turn my head to see Stanley laying into him. But the coward ran off, and Stanley came over to me. He held me until I died. He was covered in my blood...I guess that's why the police believed that he had killed me..." Layla trailed off,grief consuming her. Me? I was shocked. Everything she said seemed to mirror thepast year of my life. Jesse, Paul, everything.

We all remained in silence fora few minutes. Then I felt Jesse's hand on my own and I looked up at him. I could tell by his expression that he had come to the same realisation as me. He squeezed my hand so gently that for a moment, I thought I had imagined it.

"If only," this time it was Stanley who spoke, "we had made more use of the time that we had. We were mediators, our lives were wrought with danger. We thought that we had all the time ni the world, but we didn't. When they told me that I was being charged with her murder and faced execution, I honestly didn't care. I wanted to die; it had to be better than the pain I was living in."

I didn't know what to say. For once in my life, I, Susannah Simon, Mediator, was completely lost for words. Thank God for Jesse, that's all I can say.

"So...I guess we need to find the man who murdered you and prove that he was guilty." He said.

"I guess," Layla breathed, gazing into Stanley's eyes. But I didn't think so. The way they looked at each other screamed something, but I wasn't sure what. I honestly didn't think that catching this murderer would allow the couple to move on. They didn't seem to care that they were dead, they just wanted to be together. Could it be, for the first time in my life, that I had met a ghost thatwasn't meant to die?

* * *

**AN - I'll try and makenext chapter longer, I swear :)**


	5. Three Little Words

**Only The Good**

_**Chapter Three - **ThreeLittle Words_

_My dear, It's time to sayI thank God for you.  
I thank God for you in each and every single way.  
And,I know...I know...I know...I know... _

It's time to let you know. time to let you know.  
Time to let you know. time to sit here and say...

I know we are... we are the lucky ones.  
Iknow we are... we are the lucky ones, dear.  
We are the lucky ones, dear...

**_Bif Naked - Lucky  
_**

"People die for a reason, Suze," Paul told me. It was the first day of term and we were waiting for all the first-years to get into line. You'd think that they would have learned where to stand after four months. I guess it must be a hidden school rule or something that first years were forbidden from forming an orderly queue. Instead, I was stuck here talking to Paul Slater. Don't get me wrong, Paul was actually somewhat pleasant now, but I still found talking to him a bit odd. I occasionally insulted him for no apparant reason, but he didn't seem to mind. I guess he was feeling guilty about everything that he had put me through.

"I know, but-" I started, but Sister Ernestine's shrieking caused me to break off.

"Susannah Simon, shut your mouth!" For a nun,she was _way_ too rude. But I had no choice but to oblige; Paul had side-stepped back into his own line and every eye in the school was on me. So I shut up and squeezed in behind CeeCee.

I hate the first day of term. Usually it entailed a long, stern telling-off from Sister Ernestine for the various rules that were broken last term, and how rules were there for a reason and kept the school running smoothly, blah blah blah. Then, I would miss the first lesson of the day updating Father Dom on any business of the ghostly kind and spend the following evening catching up on what I had missed in that lesson. Today was no different. Except instead of hiding from Paul like I did last term, I actively sought him out. I figured that if Stanley and Layla had indeed kicked the bucket long before they were supposed to, I would need to travel back in time again. And no way was I doing that on my own again. If I was going tolose a few brain cells, then so was Paul. So I had explained to him everything that had happened yesterday.

After assembly, I hung back to wait for Paul. I was going to be late anyway, so it didn't really matter. As we talked, we slowly made our way towards Mr. Walden's classroom.

"I thought you were never going to...you know...again?" He muttered as a novice passed us.

"I know, but this time I think I might need to." I kept looking around, and I guess Paul must have figured out why.

"Like you needed to last time?" He raised an eyebrow. I just sighed. "I can understand why you did it then. But now? You don't even know these people!"

"It's more complicated than that," I whispered. Paul just shook his head and placed an arm around me. It was a friendly gesture, nothing more, and he proved this by squeezing my shoulder. He opened his mouth to say something, but smirked instead. He gripped my shoulder gently and turned me about ninety degrees to my left. I would have died laughing, I swear, if I had let myself.

It was Jesse. I hadn't seen him in assembly (no doubt he was speaking to Father Dominic), but here he was, looking lost and confused and surrounded by two blonde seniors and three giggling tenth-grade girls. He looked around, desperately trying to find an excuse to get away when he saw me. He waved frantically and shouted my name. I would have walked over to him, but honestly, if I had taken a single step I would have fell. I was laughing _that_ much. So he managed to tear himself away from the girls and make his way over to me. Paul removed his hand and placed both of his hands on his knees, bending over slightly. I hadn't realised that he was laughing almost as hard as I was.

"What the hell was that?" I gasped, completely out of breath. Jesse just glared at me.

"The girls in this school," he said, "are animals!" This sent Paul into afresh fit of laughter (having just that moment recovered from his previous one), which caused him to fall to his knees. I tried desperately to prevent myself from laughing this time.

"Yes they are," I agreed, kissing him gently which caused the girls (who were _still_ gazing at him) to storm off. I swear one of the tenth-graders burst into tears. Jesse smiled back at me. I loved that smile. I guess I couldn't blame those girls for fawning over him; I had seen that smile practically every single day for the past year and my knees still buckled every time that I saw it. Jesse looked as if he were about to move in for the kill when a novice came running over, screaming at usto get to lessons. After helping Paul up, I said goodbye to them both and made my way to father Dom's office.

I don't know why I didn't tell him about Stanley and Layla.Maybe it was the similarities between Jesse and I, and our relationship was private. So I lied to him, as per usual (I am _so_ going to hell) and held out a hand for my hall pass, but he just fingered it.

"And how are things between you and...er...Jesse?" He asked. At that moment, I was glad that I was sitting so far back on the chair. Any further forward, and I would have fell off the edge. "If you don't mind me asking."

"Um...fine, father. Just fine. Thank you for asking." Oh God, _why_ won't he give me that damn hall pass? Actuall, hall pass or no, I was walking out of there right now. The novices could chase me to hell and back, I didn't care. But before I had a chance to stand up, he spoke again.

"I just want to be sure that your...relationship," he flinched on the word 'relationship'. He was like a father to me, so I guess it was kind of embarassing for him. "Won't affect your studies. Or his for that matter." I sighed. I'd been doing that a lot lately, I realised.

"Father," I explained. "Jesse was born a long time ago, in what feels like a galaxy far, far away. And in that galaxy, pre-marital sex is not a common occurance. So fear not, your broom closets are safe." Father Dom turned almost as red as I did at this statement.

"That isn't what I meant, Susannah," he told me, unable to look me in the eye.

"It isn't?" I think my face had invented a new shade of red. I guess it's called 'kill-me-now' red.

"I let him into this school because he has come to be a good friend, and I wish to offer him all the advantages that you and your peers have." At this point, the cigarette packet on his desk was being eyed longingly. And not by me. "And he will not be able to have these...advantages...if you are there to distract him." I sighed yet again. Maybe I should trademark my sigh?

"Ok, I get it. We'll try to keep PDA to a minumum." I knew that this wasn't what he had meant, either, but instead of arguing he passed me my hall pass. I found that there was only so much of myoh-so-sweet first-day-back attitudethat the guy could tolerate. Thank God for small mercies. But it wasn't like Jesse and I weren't trying to keep the PDA to a minimum. You see, when he was a ghost, Jesse could walk me down the street with his arm around me and we could hug and kiss without having to worry about people staring (well, of course they would have stared at the crazy girl making out with the invisible man. It would be a trip back to my mom's therapist for me).So I guess he was used to being close to me in public. Me? I just couldn't resist the guy. Seriously, he should come with a huge warning sign, he's that irresistable.Besides, PDA is all we have until our honeymoon. Not that I wouldn't say yes if he popped the question right now. By the standards of his time, I was almost old enough to be teased for being unmarried, wasn't I? I'll ask Doc when we get home.It wasn't as though I hadn't tried to get him to let go of his obsolete views. Before, it was because he was a ghost and he didn't think it was right. Now it's because I'm too young and we aren't married. Yeah, like Maria was ancient and marriedwhen she shacked up with Diego and got him to murder Jesse.

I was so preoccupied with my thoughts that I failed to realise that second lesson was about to start until I was caught up in a stampede of sophomores. I was disorientated for a few moments until CeeCee and Adam garbbed my arms and dragged meto Sister Gloria's lesson. She was new this term, transferred from some convent out west. It would be an easy lesson. New teachers were so helpless for the first few days until they just got sick of being so nice to everyone. If they kept teaching long enough, they probably ended up morphing into a Sister Ernestine-type. So everyone just talked all lesson, swapping stories of what they got for Christmas, who made out with who...You know, the usual. But I did happen to notice when Debbie Mancuso opened her big mouth and said "Oh my God! Have you _seen_ the new senior?". Then she bit her lip and giggled, twirling a strand of her blonde hair with her fingers. She usually did this when Brad talked to her. Eew. Jesse should _never_ be treated the same way as Brad. _Eve_r. Thank God for Kelly Prescott (did I just say that?), who elbowed Debbie and kept looking back at me. But Debbie wasn't taking the hint.

"I know he's like twenty or something, but do you think he's single?" If she didn't shut her big, stupid mouth.I don't know what I was getting so angry about.

"He's not single, you doofus," said Adam, laughing hysterically. I knew he wouldn't be able to resist an opportunity to torture a member of the 'in' crowd.

"Oh yeah, and how would you know, McTavish?" She spat. Her voice was like acid, as per usual when talking to Adam or CeeCee or anyone else she considered a 'freak'. Adam just grinned, and I heard CeeCee beg him to shut up.

"Hey, Simon," This time it was Oliver Jones who spoke. A member of the wrestling team, and one of Brad's friends, he possesed the IQ of a braindead snail. "Didn't you go to the winter formal with him?" The whole class fell silent. Even Sister Gloria noticed, and made a comment on how nice it was that we were settling down already. But the quiet didn't last long.

"He's going out with _you_?" Debbie was so shocked that it actually hurt. Or would have if Icould havecared less what she thought of me.

"And I think they are a sweet couple," Kelly smiled. Paul had obviously gotten to her. Either that or she still had some crazy idea that I was trying to steal Paul from her, and by 'approving' of my relationship with Jesse, I would stay away from him. She had nothing to worry about. Not a damn thing.

I wished for a moment that I had bought a camera instead of the Miu Miu boots that I currently wore. I probably could have bought a hundred cameras for what I paid for those boots, but I had had my eye on them for a while. And they were leather. But I wished this becaue the look on Debbie's face was priceless.

It kept me grinning, all the way to lunch time, when Jesse pulled me through the door that led to the graveyard. Not very romantic, I know, but beggars can't be choosers, right?

I couldn't help but wrap my arms around him as soon as the door closed. It seemed stupid, but I kind of missed him over the past...hour. I heard him laugh as he ruffled my hair. I liked it when he did that. Almost as much as when he called me _querida_.

"What do you want?" I asked, trying to conceal a smile. I got my answer when he lowered his head and covered my mouth with his. I kissed him back. Well, what else _could_ I do? I loved it when he held me close and kissed me like this. It made me feel helpless, yet safe. And I remained blissfully happy for the whole minute that we stood there, declaring our love in the most meaningful way that he would allow. I was devastated when he pulled away, but I covered myself with a bit of humor.

"Jeez, Jesse, ifyou're so hungry then why aren't you at lunch?" He just smiled at me again. That mysterious, heart-stopping smile.

"I just wanted to see you...talk to you," he muttered, not looking at me. So, I took a leaf out of his book and held his chin between my thumb and forefinger and gently raised it up so that he looked me in the eye.

"About what?"I enquired, trying to ignore the fact that I was starving.

"About...us." I pulled my hand away instantly. He wasn't...he couldn't! Things are going so well between us!

He must have realised the panic in my eyes, because he corrected himself.

"No, no!" He rushed. "It's not bad!" Phew. Nice one Jesse, almost broke my poor little heart there. "I just...I've been thinkinga lot over the past day or so, and..." He ran a hand through his hair as he trailed off. He did that when he was nervous. Apart from anger, that was the only emotion I could identify in him. Well, and hurt, but I didn't like to think about him hurt.

"And...?"

He sighed, obviously realising that the speech he had apparantly made up just didn't cut it. I knew how that felt.

"I've been going over everything that Layla and Stanley said, and...it's made me realise that-"

"Suze?" Oh God, who the hell was this! I turned to the cemetary door toseeMelanie Nicks, oneof theMission Bell's reporters with her headaround the door. "I...uh...I'm sorry if I interruptedanything, but you said you'd help me with that story. The...um...one about the-"

"Sure, I'm coming," I replied, not really wanting to leave Jesse. Whatever it was that he was trying to say, it was taking a lot ofeffort on his part. I cast him a look before I left to let him know that if he wanted to say something, now was the time but he just said "never mind" and turned to leave. But as I was leaving, he grabbed my arm. Gently, not viciously like Paul used to. He looked me in the eye and smiled, and I knew that everything was cool between us. There was no reason for it not to be. It all happened in a second, but it seemed like an hour. His fingers lightly brushed the bare skin of my arm and he spoke in that soft, silky voice of his three words that he had never uttered before. He never needed to, we had something special...words just seemed so superficial, yet they still caused my heart to swell almost to bursting point.

"I love you."

* * *

**AN -I'm not sure if Jesse ever says the'L' word in the books,so I apologiseif this is a mistake.**

**Disclaimer - You know the score, but whatever. The story is mine, the rest is not.**


	6. Vulnerable

**Only The Good**

_**Chapter Five -**Vulnerable_

_I've seen your face a thousand times  
Have all your stories memorized  
I've kissed your lips a million ways  
But I still love to have you around_

_I've held you too many times to count  
I think I know you inside out  
And we're together most days  
But I still love to have you around_

_And you're the one I want and it's not just a phase  
And you're the one I trust, our love is the real thing_

_Don't go away  
My love (my love)  
I want you to stay  
In my life  
Don't go away  
My lover (my love)_

**_Gwen Stefani - The Real Thing_**

When I returned home that night I found that I had a visitor. It was a ghost, of course, a male ghost. He looked to be about thirty, but I could have been mistaken. I often was.

"You're the shifter, aren't you?" He demanded in a brutal, ferocious voice. It startled me, I have to admit. I was used to ghosts being violent, both verbally and physically, against me, but this man had only just met me. I hadn't had time to piss him off yet.

"Yes, I am," I replied. "And if you don't want your fingers broken, I'd change your tone." He obviously mistook my threat for a hollow one, because he simply laughed at me. Laughed! If I wasn't still so blissfully happy about Jesse's confession, I would have punched him right through the wall.

"Don't backchat me, _little girl_," he sneered. "You have no idea who you are talking to."

"That's because you haven't told me your name. I know, I'll just call you-" I couldn't finish, because the rude intruder had lunged at me, pinning me to the wall with a hand around my throat. I gasped for air, but he was crushing my windpipe. All I could do was hang there (he had lifted me a couple of inches off the ground), praying that he let go before I lost conciousness.

"You will listen to me, shifter." His voice was razor sharp, and he had an English accent. Kind of like Spike from Buffy. Except Spike would have been much nicer to me than this guy. Why is it, anyway, that most bad guys have English accents? "These two...people thatyou have been helping...you will have nothing more to do with them, do you understand? If you know what's best for you, you will exorcise them and forget everything. You are in _way_ over your head, missy."

I would have replied, if his hand was somewhere else, but all I could do was thrash around,tugging at his arm.

It was then that my bedroom door opened. 'Please turn back around!' I screamed inside my head. But David couldn't hear me and walked straight in. When he saw me, hovering inches above the ground, pulling at something invisible around my neck, he gasped.

"Suze!" He squealed, the colour draining from his face. The man currently choking me looked at him, then back at me and smiled. He raised me further up the wall, for what appeared to be dramatic reasons. I panicked. I couldn't call anyone; Jesse was alive now, and my dad was gone. I was all alone...unless.

_'Stanley!'_ I screamed in my head. I didn't know if it would work, but I was running out of options...as well as air.

Then I saw it. A faint twinkling by my window seat. A split-second laterStanley stood there, looking mighty confused. His eyes darted around my room until they fell on my assailant (who, by the way, hadn't noticed the other ghost). I don't know what surprised me the most; the fact that Stanley had actually shown up, or the fact that he seemed to recognise the stranger. As soon as they fell on the crazy English guy, his eyes filled with rage and hatred. Before I knew what had happened, Crazy Guy had dropped me due to the fist that connected sharply with the back of his head. He yelled in surprise as his forhead collided with the wall beside my head from the impact of the fist. He didn't have time to right himself before Stanley grabbed him and threw him into my dressing table, sending perfume, nail varnish and make-up flying everywhere. Daved let out another little squeal and ran over to me where I lay slumped against the wall.

"What was that?" He was almost crying. "Why is your throat red? Was that the ghost!" I wrapped an arm around him, more to make sure that I was still alive than to comfort him.

"No...That ghost is gone...This was another one." My voice cracked towards the end. That guy had done some damage.

"What did it want? Why was it hurting you?" My stepbrother demanded. I ignored this question because I honestly didn't know the answer. I looked over to my dressing table (which had amazingly remained in one piece) to see that Crazy English Guy had dematerialized. Stanley, however, came rushing over to me in a similar way to David and began asking me if I was alright. He held my head as he inspected it for damage then lifted it up so that he could see my neck. He was gentle, so as not to cause me anymore harm, but I still slapped his hands away.

"I'm fine," I said, realising that David was also begining to look more and more concerned.

"Who was that?" I asked.

"Who was what?"

"You'd be better off not knowing."

Both David and Stanleyanswered at the same time. I ignored David, but became infuriated by Stanley's reply.

"Better off not knowing? The guy tried to kill me! In front of my thirteen-year-old brother!" I yelled, scaring David quite a bit. He pleaded with me to tell him what was going on, but I continued to stare at Stanley, as if I stared at him long and hard enough I might be able to will the answer to appear on his forehead. But the bastard just dematerialized, causing me to let out a frustrated scream which, by the way, caused my aching throat to explode with pain. Men.

* * *

I'm not stupid, you know. It's strange, but true. Which is why I made my way down to the library once I'd managed to calm David down and began to search through the microfiche for any articles concerning the events surrounding Layla's murder. It was a good place to begin; it was the event that triggered Stanley's descent into despair and also his execution. 

But I didn't find anything new. Nada. Nothing, even, that even suggested who Crazy English Guy was. I raised a hand to my bruised throat. It was still really sore, and I had point blank refused to go to ER, like David had suggested. But what irritated me more than my inflamed windpipe was the lack of information on my two ghostly buddies. Murder, it turns out, is a rare crime around here (well, now that Marcus Beaumont was being chased around the world by his vengeful victims anyway) and isn't publicised much when it does happen. Yeah, I guess the authorities don't want tourists to think that they are walking into a death trap.

Even David, who had tagged along, had failed to find anything. He had searched for records of all men aged 25 to 40 who had died in the past few months, but none of them matched the description of my attacker. So that ruled out the possibility that he was Layla's ex-boyfriend. Talking about Layla, I had been trying to call Stanley back for a while now, but he was nowhere to be found. I guess the fact that I was screaming his name in quite aviolent way in my head didn't help much. He was hiding something from me, I know he was. But what was it? I hated not knowing things.

My inner fumings were interrupted by a very welcome voice behind me.

"I honestly never thought that I would ever see you set foot inside a library, Susannah," Jesse spoke, ever so softly. I couldn't help but smile again. I forgot about that damn microfiche; it was doing nothing but irritate me right now, and stood up to face him.

He smiled at me for a moment before his gaze fell to my neck.

"_Nombre de Dios_!" He exclaimed, a little too loudly for a library atmosphere if you ask me, and raised his right hand to my bruised throat. "What happened to you?" His worry and anxiety showed in his voice. It was nice to know someone who cared about me so much.

"I...I kind of, um...had a visitor," I slurred. Every word I spoke caused a fresh jolt of pain to shoot up and down my trachea. "But, um...he's gone now..."

I could tell by the look on his face that this was not enough information for Jesse. I really didn't want him to get involved in this. I know that he is strong, both physically and mentally, but if he got hurt (or worse, killed...again) then I never would have been able to forgive myself for dragging him into it.

"Susannah..." I knew that tone; he used it to get his own way. It was a no-nonsense tone and stated 'you will tell me what I want to know right now'. But this tone didn't always work on me, and it sure as hell wasn't going to this time. Which is why he had a second tone for the same purpose, and it was occasionally accompanied by the stroking of my cheek. "Please, tell me..." Damn. He used the second tone.

I stood there, desperately trying to block out the sound of his silky, pleading voice. But it was no use, the 'information please' button had been pressed again and it all came spilling out. When I had finally finished (stopping for air a few times, of course), he looked twice as worried as he had before. And now he also looked furious.

"Jesse, please don't go after this guy, whoever he was," I begged. "He's not like the other ghosts I've met, he's...stronger. He was going to let me go until he saw David, then he seemed to decide to kill me infront of him. The only reason Stanley was able to fight him off was because he took him by surprise."

"Stanley was there?" Oops...I kind of left that part out. "Why?" I swallowed (which took more effort than usual, let me tell you).

"Well, I called him." Jesse gave me a look that I had never seen before. I didn't know what it was, but I didn't like it. "I had to! The guy was killing me! I couldn't call you, or my dad. I didn't have a choice! He saw the guy and punched him, then checked ifI was alright. He saved my life."

Then I told him the part where Stanley seemed to recognise the guy. It was obvious that Jesse was fuming inside, because _that_ muscle in his face was twitching (which I hadn't seen it do since Paul reformed...I always thought that it was something to do with Paul). So I told him that if it was any consolation, Stanley seemed to hate the guy's guts.

"I was so scared," I sobbed. Yeah, so I was laying it on a bit thick, but whatever. Then, Jesse wrapped his arms around me and held me close to him. It was a wonderful feeling. I pressed my head against his chest and I could hear his heart beating. I loved that sound; it proved to me that I hadn't been dreaming the past few weeks. I lifted my head up after a few moments and pulled back slightly so that I could see his face and it startled me to see that a single tear had trickled down his cheek. My noticed me looking and lifted up one hand to cup my cheek.

"I could have lost you today," he said. _Lost you. _I couldn't help smiling at this comment. "I...I never want to lose you." This time it was _me_ that held _him_.

"You won't," I reassured him, shedding a few tears of my own. I had to protect myself for Jesse's sake now. "I love you too much."

"You aren't invincible," he whispered. "And neither am I. We think we have all the time in the world, but we don't. It could all end at any time."

His words caused something inside of me to stir. He was right. Just look at what happened to Stanley and Layla. They were starting a new life togetherand it was cruelly brought toan end before it had a chance to begin, really. Maybe that was why I wanted to help them so much. I wanted to give them another chance, just like Jesse and I were given. But in comparison, Jesse and I were so lucky. He was taken from me twice and came back both times. And it was pure luck that Paul had decided to leave us alone. I mean, it could have all turned out like Layla's murder. But I couldn't help but wonder; if we didn't have all the time in the world, then what _were_ we waiting for?

* * *

**AN - I just realised that the last TWO chapters state that they are Chapter Three...A little Typo, sorry, lol :).**

**Disclaimer - You know it...**


	7. Not Tonight

**Only The Good**

**_Chapter Six_ - **_Not tonight_

_I wanna love you but I better not touch  
I wanna hold you, but my senses tell me to stop  
I wanna kiss you but I want it too much  
I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison_

**_Alice Cooper - Poison_**

I don't know how long Jesse and I stood there, holding each other, only that David eventually interrupted us.

"I...um...think there's something you should look at," he told me, obviously uncomfortable with interrupting his step-sister and her boyfriend. _Boyfriend_. I loved saying that word.

So, Jesse and I followed him over to a table where a box of old newspapers had been emptied onto it. David picked up a newspaper that had been placed on top of the upturned empty box and handed it to me, pointing out a small article which was accompanied by a photograph of a seemingly happy couple. But the girl...it was Layla. It was obvious that she was younger than when she had died. She couldn't have been much older than I was now. I didn't recognise the man next to her. David realised that I was staring at the picture, so he urged me to read the article. I checked the date of the paper first, and was shocked to find that it was yesterday's edition. Anyway, this is what the article said:

**FAMILY'S HEARTACHE OVER MURDERED STUDENT.**

_Today, the family of murdered NoCal student Layla Anderson spoke out for the first time about the loss of their daughter. Her parents, 46-year-old teacher Donald Anderson and 43-year-old chef Pauline Anderson spoke of the heartache her death has caused them.. _

_"She was a very bright young girl," her mother told this reporter, choking back tears. "She would have went on to do great things." According to her parents, Layla's ambition was to become a psychologist so that she could help those like Stanley, her boyfriend and murderer. She was doing well, and was the top of her class. Indeed, she would have done great things had it not been for the psychotic act of her so-called lover._

_"I just want to know why he did it," her father stated. "They seemed so happy together. Stanley worshipped her. I don't understand how someone could do something so terrible to the person they claim to have loved." _

_The Anderson family are not the only people to have suffered because of the murder. Layla's ex-boyfriend, Kurt Smith, a 22-year-old mechanic, also spoke out today._

_"I warned her that people like Stanley never change," he told us. "I begged her to leave him but she wouldn't. I loved her until the end." According to Kurt, Mr. Morse attacked him on several occasions._

There was more, but I had read enough. I felt Jesse, who had been reading over my shoulder, shift uncomfortably.

"Well, at least we know the ex-boyfriend's name now," he whispered. I agreed. I couldn't help but look at the photograph. I now noticed the caption beneath it which read 'Layla and Kurt Smith were a happy couple'. Bullshit. He murdered her, and framed an innocent man. Well, come to think of it, no framing went on whatsoever, Stanley simply happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"We have to find him," I said, my voice harder than I intended it to be. The ex had to know who my assailant was. Otherwise, why would the guy turn up in my room, threaten me then try to kill me? Something was going on, and I needed to find out what.

So, I did my usual thing; called information and got the number of a Mr. K. Smith, murderous mechanic. It turned out that he lived in a small apartment near Robert Louis Stevenson High School. Great, I could find that no problem. But Jesse wouldn't let me go. Not tonight, anyway.

"It's getting late, and you have already been attacked," he told me. He was genuinely concerned. So concerned, in fact, that he asked me to sleep at his apartment tonight. I thought it was sweet of him to offer, so I accepted. I had no idea what to say to my mother, so when I returned home to pick up my books for the next dayI gave her a lame excuse that I was staying with a friend to work on an unfinished project. Hey, it was sort of true. So she couldn't exactly have it out with me for lying. She seemed alright with it until she insisted that she helped me carry my school books to the car and realised that the 'friend' was Jesse. It took some persuasion, but she eventually relented. I gues she worked on the thought that if a priest (namely Father Dom) approved of Jesse, then he should be alright.

I'll admit, I was nervous about staying at Jesse's apartment; it was a big step for me. But I knew that both of us would be safe as long as we stuck together.

The apartment had two bedrooms, but he was still in the process of unpacking everything and buying furniture, etc. so one room didn't have a bed. The kitchen was all kitted out and all the living room needed was a T.V. (which Jesse insisted that he could live without...he still wasn't too happy about the telephone, but how else was I going to contact him?), but the bedrooms still needed a fair bit of work. In the main bedroom, the one Jesse slept in, there was a double bed and a small wardrobe, but several large cardboard boxes were stacked up against one wall. The other room was full of boxes, clothes and books at the moment. He had more clothes than he needed, really, but I guess that was my fault.

So, we were in a bit of a predicament about the sleeping situation. I was perfectly happy with sharing the double bed with Jesse, but he insisted on sleeping on the sofa while I took the bed. I've mentioned this before, and I will say it again; Jesse is just about the most stubborn person I have ever met, so it became clear that we wouldn't be sharing a bed tonight. So I told him to take the bed and I would sleep on the sofa. He reluctantly agreed, but only because Spike was meowing, which he did a lot when I came around.

So, that's how I came to be attempting to sleep on Jesse's sofa. I didn't know how late it was, but it had turned dark hours ago. I thought that I would feel safer, staying here, but for some reason I didn't. I kept getting the feeling that I was being watched. I even thought I heard footsteps behind the sofa, but when I sat up there was nobody there. I couldn't help thinking about Jesse's death. Strangled in his sleep by Felix Diego. Strangled. In his sleep. So he couldn't defend himself.

I bolted upright. It was silly of me to get afraid of something so stupid, but I felt really uncomfortable. For all I knew, Crazy English Guy could beinglurking in the shadows, waiting for me to doze off so that he could off me without alerting Jesse. I wasn't going to stay there for a second longer. So, I dropped the blanket that I had been clutching and silently made my way to Jesse's bedroom. He had left the door open, so I slid inside.

I smiled when my gaze fell of the bed. Jesse was lying on his side, fast asleep and Spike was curled up under his chin. All that damn cat ever did to me at night was chew my toes, it wasn't fair! I tried to carefully wriggle under the covers, so as not to disturb the sleeping boys, but Jesse rolled over when I lay down.

"Susannah?" He sounded bewildered. "What are you doing?" I smiled sheepishly. I know we'd been to hell and back together (well, alright...purgatory and back) but I was still to embarassed to admit to him that I was scared. Unless, of course, I wanted him to hold me again. But this time I didn't really have a choice. The alternative was to just lie there, grinning insanely until he chucked me out.

"I thought I heard something, and I got scared," I mumbled. Jesse just raised an eyebrow, obviously unconvinced.

"Hey! I'm serious!" I said, trying to act hurt. Instead of telling me to return to the sofa, however, he smiled and reached up to tucka strand of hair behind my ear. I smiled back at him and lay my head on his chest, an arm around him waist. I guess I took him by surprise, because he froze for a moment or two before wrapping his arms around me. As if he had suddenly injected me with a sedative, I felt myself becoming drowsy. Maybe it was those strong arms around me, or the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my cheek or even the fingers that oh-so-gently stroked my cheek, I didn't know. The last thing I heard before drifting off to sleep was a gentle voice whisper "_querida"_. There was something in that voice that I had never heard before. Whatever it was, I liked it.

* * *

I woke up unusually early that morning, around six o'clock, to find breakfast already set out. Come to think of it, it was probably the smell of freshly-made pancakes and syrup that woke me up. I must say that Jesse is the most amazing cook I have ever known. He's good enough to rival Andy, seriously. It came as a huge surprise to me, because I always thought that the women did all the cooking in the 19th century. So as soon as I was roused from my sleep, I made my way to the kitchen. 

"Good morning, _querida_," Jesse purred as I kissed him on the cheek.

"Something smells good," I told him, licking my lips as I searched for the sourch of the intensely appetizing aroma.

"I thought you would say that," he smiled, pointing to the table. My stomach rumbled greedily as I walked over to the mound of pancakes that had been set out, along with a jug of orange juice. Jesse knew how much I ate in the morning. Well, I hardly ever eat before I go to bed. I tried not to embarass myself by wolfing the gorgeous pancakesdown in an instant, but they were so good. I had to stop and apologise when he started to laugh at me.

"Slow down, you've got an hour and a half," he told me. Which was when I realised that he was already dresses. InLevis and a plain white shirt. Jeans were forbidden at the Mission Academy,even for seniors. Which I pointed out to Jesse, but he simply laughed at meagain.

"I'm not going in today," he said calmly. "There's something I need to do." Ah, yes...something.

"Jesse, don't you even think about going after Kurt yourself!" I spat, accidentally spraying Spike with chewed-up pancake. Yeah, I'm gross. It's no wonder Jesse would rather not share a bed with me.

"Oh, don't worry,_ querida_, I'm not." He replied, his voice seeming awkward and unsure. He smiled that mysterious smile at me, but this time it seemed more uncertain than usual. This obviously made me curious, so I decided to be awkward and pry.

"What else is so important that you have to miss school for?" I enquired. Jesse turned his back to me and appeared to be gazing out of the kitchenwindow.

"You'll see." I could detect that something in his voice. The same something that had been appearing a lot lately. I wish I knew what it was.

* * *

**AN - Meh, I don't like that chapter. I don't know why...**

**I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone who was reviewed so far! You guys rock! Those reviews make my day, seriously :). It's nice to know that people are enjoying reading this fic as much as I am enjoying writing it.**

**Disclaimer - I don't own any thing except the story...even Jesse, unfortunately :(.**


	8. Paul's Visitor

**Only The Good**

_**Chapter Seven - **Paul's Visitor_

I had woke up so early that morning, so it was strange how I was so late for school. I blame Jesse. He drove me to school and then sat there, looking all cute. A little goodbye kiss turned out into a full on tongue-war and the next time I opened my eyes, everybody was gone. I managed to sneak into Father Dom's office before one of the novices spotted me, however, so I didn't get detention or anything.

"So." Was all that Father D said when I sat in front of his desk. "I hear that you have been having a spot of bother with a ghost or two." I'll admit that I had half-expected him to know about it already, but it still caused me to look stunned, apparantly.

"David came to me this morning," he picked up the packet of cigarettes and gazed longingly at them for a moment before shoving them out of sight beneath the desk. "He seemed worried. He told me that something was holding you against a wall, and then you had an argument with someone. Someone he couldn't see." I sighed. I guess that it was all going to come out eventually, courtesy of Jesse. So I told him the epic story of Layla, Stanley and the crazy English guy. I was surprised that he listened to the whole story without moving an inch. Not even when I got to the part where Crazy English guy had tried to strangle me to death (kind of ironic seeing as it was the same room that Jesse was strangled to death in).

"Well," he said, once my amazing narration had ceased. "I, for one, am amazed that you didn't speak of this yesterday. It is dangerous, dealing with violent spirits alone. Especially for a seventeen-year-old girl. I coughed, shifting slightly in my seat. I might as well say everything at once.

"Well, I haven't exactly been on my own," I told him, gazing at the ceiling. I pretended to be fascinated with the ancient stone.

"Paul?" Father Dominic chuckled. "That boy is hardly what I'd call-"

"No, not Paul." I was going to get it in the neck. But it had to be said. "Jesse." Father Dominic chuckled again, but stopped when he saw my serious expression.

"Susannah?" He seemed calmly curious, so I guess it wasn't all that bad. But I still felt guilty for lying to him. After all, he was a friend, not to mention a priest.

"Jesse is a mediator." I spoke so fast it was a miracle that he understood me. His curious expression turned to one of mild anger with a trace of scepticism.

"You can't be...serious?" Oh, but I was. "But I don't understand. How? He never was." I shrugged. I didn't know the answer anymore than he did.

"He thinks it might be due to the fact that he used to be a ghost." I explained. "He could see ghosts, speak to them, touch them. I guess that something like that doesn't just disappear overnight."

Father Dom looked thoughtful for a moment or two. I guess I was lucky that he found the whole thing interesting. Maybe he wouldn't be so hard on me now. He looked up at me, and his gaze fell on mybruised throat. I had tried to conceal it with make-up, but it obviously hadn't worked very well.

"And does Jesse know about..." He lifted a hand and signalled to the offending area. I sighed and nodded.

"He knows everything," I whispered. Father Dom gently shook his head and handed me my hall pass.

"I think that just about concludes our talk," He said as I took the pass from him. "Now, if you would be so kindas totell Sister Ernestine that I would like a word with Jesse-"

"Nuh-uh, Father!" I exclaimed, obviously too fast for his liking as he eyed me suspiciously.

"Why ever not, Susannah?" Was his reply. I grinned sheepishly and picked at the edges of my hall pass. Great, now I'd landed Jesse in it, too.

"He um...took the day off. Said he had to go somewhere." Yeah, feeble. I couldn't even lie. So, I added hastily, so as not to get Jesse in trouble, "It, um...looked kind of urgent." To my complete and utter surprise, Father Dom didn't even look surprised. Instead, he looked as though he had just remembered something.

"Ah..." He muttered, more to himself than to me. I guess I must have looked extremely confused, because he smiled at me and said "Just a little bit of business he needs to sort out." Why is everyone around here so damn cryptic? Instead of arguing - I didn't have enough energy left in me to do so - I left and made my way to Sister Gloria's lesson. It was only day two, so we still had a free lesson.

"Jesus Christ, Simon!" Paul exclaimed as I took my seat beside him (yeah, Adam stole the seat behind CeeCee, so I was stuck inbetween him and Paul). "What the hell happened?" I noticed his gaze, along with Adam's (who always loves to eavesdrop) land on my hideous bruise.

"It's a long story," I mumbled, pulling the collar of my sweater up. It was way too hot for sweaters, but the alternative was a lot of questions.

Paul obviously wasn't going to leave it alone. He raised his hand and shouted Sister Gloria's name. The exhausted nun looked up, amazed to find that one of her students actually knew her name.

"Sister, Susannah isn't feeling too well," he lied. "Can I take her to the nurse?" I sent a silent plea to Sister Gloria, but she couldn't care less and wrote Paul and I a hall pass. Honestly, with the amount of lessons I miss, it's a miracle that I'm doing so well.

So, very reluctantly, I allowed Paul to drag me down the hall and into the graveyard.

"Right, tell me what happened," he demanded. He had his back to the doors leading back into the school, so I couldn't escape. I really didn't want to talk about this. Not now and not with him. But he continued to stare intently at me until I spoke.

"Nothing!" I screamed, frustrated by him already. I honestly didn't know why he wanted to know so badly.

"Suze, 'nothing' doesn't leave a bruise." He said as he walked over to me, placing a hand on each of my shoulders. "Please." He gazed into my eyes, and I felt lost. Not because I was lost _in_ them, ugh, as if. I felt lost because I could feel his eyes searing into my soul. They did that a lot. It felt as though at that moment, he was reading my deepest, darkest secrets. I shook my head to break the connection, but it was too late. He smiled.

"Something happened, and you aren't telling me about it," he stated. "I saw it in your eyes." No Paul, what you saw was terror. I didn't admit it to him, or even to Jesse, but I occasionally had nightmares about Paul. They never went away, not even when Paul and I became friends.So I couldn't really be blamed for still being scared of him in some way. So, for fear of what he might do, I told him exactly the same story that I had told Father D. When I had finished, he continued to stare at me. I really wish he wouldn't do that.

It was a lot of information for him to take in, as intelligent as he was. My Jesse, a mediator. The two lovebirds. The guy who tried to kill me. Buta glintin his eye told me that something had hit him. Hard. He released my shoulders and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He shook his head, as if to tell himself that he hadn't just heard that.

"Suze," he said after he had clamed down. His voice was quiet, almost inaudible. "Did this guy have sandy-coloured hair? And he wore Jeans and a plain white tee?" I nodded. But how could he know, I hadn't told him any of this! Paul seemed so shocked that he had to sit down.

"I am so sorry, Suze," he said softly. What did he have to be sorry for? "I...I guess I led him to you."

"What?" I screamed. How could he have? He noticed the hurt and shock in my voice and stood back up, holding his hands out in a 'down, girl' motion.

"No, it's not what it sounds like!" Yeah, and what was it supposed to sound like? Huh, Paul? "He came to me. Right after I got home. I left school early because my grandfather needed meback home, and when I got there, this guy appeared. He started asking stuff, about me and then about you. And I mean real personal stuff, Suze. Like did I ever love you, how did you really feel about me? He said that he had a message for you, and then left. I had no idea what he was going to-" I held up a hand to silence him. He was hysterical. That was why he wasn't making any sense, right? I turned my back on him as I thought this over.

The guy goes to Paul, asking personal questions about us. Then he turns up in my room, threatens me then tries to kill me. Why?

"Maybe he's Layla's ex?" Paul suggested. I shook my head.

"No, we checked him out, he's still alive." This just didn't make any sense. If it was Stanley and Layla he wanted rid of, then why did he come to Paul? And why did he not want me to helpthe dead couple?Well, whatever the reason was, I sure as hell wasn't going to stop. Not now.

* * *

The journey home that night was unpleasant, to say the least. I had Jake trying to get me to tell him what happened to my neck (I said that I had been attacked, the same excuse that I had told my mom. Hey! It was the only way to get her to allow me to spend the night with Jesse. And it wasn't exactly a lie), Brad trying to get me to admit that Jesse and I did the nasty last night - which we _so_ did not, sadly - and David trembling next to me, refusing to say a word. 

"Seriously Suze, you have to tell the cops about this," Jake (who had the week off college, so was acting as chauffer again)repeated, for what seemed like the millionth time.Once again, I shook my head and told him that it didn't matter. Apart from the whole worshipping-my-boyfriend-instead-of-wanting-to-kill-him thing, Jake had started to act like a proper older brother, and to be truthful, it was starting to irritate the hell out of me.

"I bet she wasn't even attacked!" Brad chimed in, smirking as usual. "Jesse probably got a little rough with her is all. You know, when they-aah! What the hell was that for?" I glared at him, ready to punch him again.

"If you say anything about my sex life - or lack thereof - ever again,I'll put a few dents in that pretty little face of yours," I snarled. Whoa. Why did I say that? Brad does _not_ have a pretty face.

David just sat next to me, not making a sound. He was far quieter than usual, which was saying something. I felt sorry for the poor guy. I mean, he hasn't had it easy since I arrived in Carmel. It was only blind luck that he was away during Maria's haunting. For all I know, it could have been him slurping down those bugs. I was pissed at her for doing this to Brad, so God knows what I would have done if she had done it to David.

So I guess I wasn't to blame when I slid my arm around him and squeezed his shoulder.

"It's going to be all right, kiddo," I told him, amazing myself at how much I sounded like my dad. I missed him.

As soon as we arrived home, I ran up to my bedroom and changed. The sweater was a very bad idea. A few minutes later and my jeans lay on the bed along with the sweater and I was all decked out in a plain,emerald greenstrap dress and black slingbacks. I know it's January, but the weather was playing out like it was the middle of July.I had wrapped a green and black silk scarf around my neck to hide my bruise. It didn't go with my ensemble, you see.

That morning, I had told Jesse to pick me up at my house. I couldn't help but wonder if he had taken matters into his own hands and paid Kurt a little visit himself. If that was the case, then he probably wouldn't come for me. But I had barely been sitting on the steps of the porch for a minute when his car pulled up infront of the house. I had to run over to it and open the passenger door before Jesse got out and did it for me. He was a gentleman like that.

"Miss me?" I asked, grinning mischieveously as I pecked him on the lips. He tried his best to look indifferent and shrugged. I pretended to be offended and punched him lightly on the arm. Have I mentioned that Jesse has _really_ nice muscles? They're not body-builder big, but they still make me want to get into trouble just so he could save me. I had persuaded him to join the local gym with me; I had wanted to do it for a while, but Inever had anyone to go with. So I guess his muscles weren't going anywhere fast.

"Pine Crest, right?" He muttered, obviously not happy that we were doing this. Or_ I_ was doing this. He had spent all morning trying to persuade me to stay at home while he tried to sort things out. Last time he had tried to 'sort things out', I had to stop him from murdering someone.

"Yeah, thirty-three." I replied, glancing at the post-it note I had stuck to myPrada handbag.I began to peel it off, trying not to leave the sticky stuff on the leather when I remembered something.

"Hey, Jesse," I purred, attempting to sound as sexy as possible. Which isn't easy in front of Jesse, let me tell you. Instead of Jessica Rabbit, I came across as more of a Minnie Mouse. "Where did yougo today? Father Dom said that you were taking care of some business."

Jesse didn't even flinch. Something flashed across his eyes, but, as usual, I had no idea what it was.

"It was nothing." That was it. 'It was nothing'. I sighed. It was no use pursuing the subject, he wouldn't give. But he did place his hand over mine. I smiled and held it back, enjoying the warmth of his skin against mine.

Pine Crest Avenue was closer than I thought. But then again, Carmel isn't exactly the biggest town in California. I was surprised at how...humble the street seemed. There were a few palm trees, and a lot of the houses were painted terracotta, some with ivy crawling up the sides. Kurt Smith's apartment block was about a mile down the road, but even there, it seemed so peaceful and serene. It was hard to believe that a murderer lived there.

That's what I thought as I waited for him to answer the intercom. _'How can he live with what he has done?'_A few minutes of silence passed before I pressed the buzzer again and shouted "hello" into the intercom. Another few moments passed before someone finally answered.

"Yeah?" The voice was deep and rough. Rough like its owner hadn't slept for a while. I looked down to the mail boxes to find that his was overflowing.

"Kurt Smith?" I spoke, trying hard to conceal the anger that I felt.

"Who is this?" The voice asked, growing increasingly worried. 'Yeah, you should be', I thought.

"My name is Susannah," I told him. "I have a message for you. From a Miss Anderson." Alright, so I lied, but this guy had done something far worse than lie to a complete stranger. But he didn't reply to my announcement. Instead, the intercom switched off and I cursed. I turned to Jesse to complain about it some more when there was a buzz behind me. When I turned around, I saw that the door was open.

He was letting usgo up.

* * *

**AN - Heh, that chapter was about 80 speech. My apologies :), I just wanted to get this one out so I can move on with the story now. I'm going to dedicate a chapter or two coming up completely to Jesse and Suze, because, well...that's what this story is about, isn't it?**

**And I apologise profusely for last chapter. I read through chapters once I have typed them up, and try to correct any mistakes (including missing spaces between words, but it happens anyway when I upload for some strange reason, so there's not much I can do there), but I was half asleep when I checked through the last chapter. Words were misspelt and there were more spaces missing than usual, so I apologise. I'll try and fix all the chapters once I have finished.**

**Disclaimer - Nothing is mine. Not a damn thing. Except the story.**


	9. Unbearable

**Only The Good**

_**Chapter Eight - **Unbearable_

_I can't pretend that I don't care - it's not fair  
I'm being punished for all my offences  
I wanna touch you but I'm afraid of the consequences  
I wanna banish you from whence you came  
But you're part of me now  
And I've only got myself to blame_

_**The Darkness - Growing On Me**  
_

I honestly didn't know what to expect with Kurt Smith. But whatever it was, it wasn't what I witnessed the moment he opened his apartment door.

The man who stood before me was not a Charles Manson-type, as I had expected. Kurt was good-looking, not handsome, but there was enough there to see why Layla went on a date with him. His jaw was coated with a layer of stubble, and his brown hair was uncombed. His green eyes were bloodshot, and the bags beneath them confirmed my initial belief that he had not slept in a while. Maybe he did have a conscience, after all.

"When you say Miss Anderson, do you mean Layla?" He asked curiously as he led Jesse and I inside his apartment. Jesse gripped my arm possesively.

"Yes," I told him. "I guess you can say that I'm gifted." I use the word 'gifted' more freely now. After all, if I wasn't a mediator, I never would have met Jesse. At my words, a flicker of fear seemed to appear in Kurt's tired eyes.

"What did she say?" He enquired, motioning for me to take a seat on his sofa. I did so, Jesse's grip loosening as he sat beside me. Kurt seemed intrigued by what I had to say. It was quite frightening, actually.

"She said that you murdered her," I said, flatly. There was no use beating around the bush here. "And her boyfriend, who tried to save her life, was wrongly executed for her murder." Kurt actually flinched at these words. It was strange, but the more time I spent with him, the less he seemed like a murderer.

"I know," he whispered, choking back tears. Tears! Either he was a good actor, or genuinely sorry for what he had done. "I didn't know what happened." He gently shook his head, rubbing his bare arms as he did so. He wore old jogging pants and a tank top, obviously the clothes that he slept in.

"What do you mean?" I demanded, more furiously than I had intended.

"I don't remember doing it!" He exclaimed, raising his voice a little. "All I remember is this freakyshit happening around my apartment. Like stuff moving and going missing. Then, on the night she was murdered, I could hear someone walking around. But there was no-one there! Then it started to get real cold, and I passed out. I woke up the next morning and I was covered in blood. I figured I'd been attacked, and I assumed the blood was mine, but I couldn't find any cuts.Then I noticed a necklace beside where I lay. It was Layla's. I knew that, because her mother had gave it to her for her eighteenth birthday. Then I heard it on the news. She was dead, and I knew that I'd done it! I just don't remember..." This guy was good.

"She said that you invited her out to the point, to talk." I said, remaining as calm as possible. "Then, you attacked her. Stanley fought you off, and she died in his arms." Kurt looked at me, disbelievingly.

"But I don't remember doing anything! How can you murder someone without knowing!" He demanded. Nobody was that good an actor. Something very strange is going on here.

"You said that 'stuff' was moving and going missing," Jesse said, cool and collected, as always. "What exactly went missing?" Kurt sniffed and ran a hand through his unkempt hair.

"Uh...letters, mainly. And someone had went through my email inbox. Photos went missing, a lot of stuff relating to Layla, actually." Jesse looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking again.

"What was your relationship like with Layla?" He asked. Kurt sighed. He obviously didn't mind talking about Layla, otherwise he would have kicked us out already. I guess that he wanted answers as much as we did.

"It wasn't very good," he told us. "I guess you could say that I harassed her. I loved her, and I wanted her no matter what the cost. But she loved Stanley, and it drove me mad. He was a freakin' nutcase! I didn't know how she could have chosen someone straight from the looney bin over me. I guess you could say that Stanley and I became arch enemies or something. But when I realised that she was completely devoted to him, I started to ease off. Then all this started to happen. Something was in my apartment, something I couldn't see and then a week later she dies." So, Mr. Smith had himself a ghostly visitor. I guess the fact that he couldn't see it meant that he wasn't a mediator like Layla. But something else struck me. Why did all this sound familiar?

"Are you alright?" Jesse asked me as we left. I had remained silent for the latter part of our visit, where everything that I already knew was discussed. There was something there, screaming at me, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"Yeah, I guess," I replied. "Did something strike you as odd in there?" Jesse shrugged as he opened the passenger door of his car for me.

"You mean that Kurt seemed sincere when he told us that he did not murder Layla?" He asked. I shook my head.

"No, it was something else."

* * *

I spent most of that evening, wondering what it was, but it was all to no avail. So I decided to walk down to the beach to watch the sunset. I don't know what it was about it that made me feel so at ease. As I watched the sun sink below the horizon, it seemed to take all my troubles with it. I tilted my head back as the last of the days light washed over me. Another day over, and who knew what wonders the next would hold. 

I lay on the towel that I had brought for a while before I felt someone sit down beside me. I turned to face them, and smiled.

"I was begining to worry about you, _querida,_" he purred. "I tried to call you, but your mother told me that you weren't there."

"I needed to clear my head," I replied, trying to shake off the fatigue that swept over me. The cool ocean breeze made me shiver slightly, so I sat up and pulled myself closer to Jesse. He wrapped an arm around me and suddenly I was shivering for a completely different reason. His shirt was short-sleeved, so I could feel the warmth radiating from his bare arms. It was comforting, knowing that I had someone that I could share everything with. All my hopes and fears, anxieties and worries. I closed my eyes, savouring the moment. But it wasn't enough. I lifted my head from his shoulder, where it lay, and leaned closer to him. He had barely turned to face me when I pressed my lips against his, enjoying the warmth they gave mine. He kissed me back, opening his mouth just enough so that I could slide my tongue over his bottom lip. He reached up and placed his free hand on theside of my face, and I felt it gently move back until his fingers were grazing the back of my neck. These were the moments I lived for. I pressed the palm of my left hand on his hard chest and pushed lightly so that we both fell backwards onto the towel, me on top of him. His strong hands moved up and down my back, sending shivers of pleasure down my spine, and I ran my fingers though his thick dark hair. The heat that coursed through every vein became unbearable and I let out a soft moan. I had tried to hold it in, but it was impossible, and it caused Jesse to break off the kiss and move his hands to either side of my face.

_"Querida," _he whispered, obviously out of breath himself. I swallowed.This always happened. So, I sat up and moved sideways to allow Jesse to do the same. He pulled himself upright, so that we were sitting side-by-side again. This was getting unbearable. It was getting harder and harder to control myself, and from Jesse's actions, this obviously rang true for him too.

"Jesse, this is getting too difficult," I whispered, finding it hard to catch my breath again. He nodded, obviously feeling the same way. We sat in silence for a few minutes before Jesse reached for his jacket, which he must have removed before I was aware of his presence. He began to dust the sand from it, but his mind was obviously elsewhere.

"You know," I said, desperate to break this uncomfortable silence. "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately." I trailed off to look at Jesse and saw that he wore yet another unreadable expression. Once I spoke, however, it eased off a bit and he looked at me.

"So have I, _querida_," he told me, his voice quiet and unsure. I was about to reply when he reached into one of his jacket pockets and removed a small, red, velvet box. I didn't realise what it meant then, but when he held it towards me and opened it, there was no mistaking his intentions. Inside the box was the most beautiful diamond ring I had ever seen. It was a single diamond, simple and beautiful. It must have cost him a fortune, and I knew that he didn't have much money at the moment. I gasped, not able to control myself. If I had any doubt about what he was doing, it disappeared when he spoke. Although his voice seemed rushed and still unsure, it was still sincere.

"Marry me."

* * *

**AN - I know I only updated yesterday, but I'm off sick today and it was either get the next chapter done or veg out on the sofa eating junk food. Besides, I wasn't too keen on the last chapter, anyway, and this one is kind of short.**

**But you knew he was going to propose! But what will she say? And is Kurt being honest, did he really black out during Layla's murder? And what was familiar about his admission? The first will be answered next chapter (obviously, lol). The last couple of chapters have been fairly Suze/Jesse-less, so I'll be making up for it ;).**

**Disclaimer - You know the deal.**


	10. With Every Waking Breath

**Only The Good**

_**Chapter Eight -**_ _With every waking breath_

_I don't know how you do what you do  
I'm so in love with you  
It just keeps getting better  
I want to spend the rest of my life  
With you by my side  
Forever and ever  
Every little thing that you do  
Baby, I'm amazed by you_

_**Lonestar - Amazed**_

"Marry me?"

Those two words drove out every thought in my head. My mind went numb and I swear my heart stopped beating. Was he being serious? At that moment in time, I wanted nothing more than to scream at the top of my lungs and wrap my arms around him, declaring that yes, I did want to marry him. But all I could do was stare down at the magnificent ring like a complete goober. I guess I must have been silent for a while, because Jesse eventually spoke.

"I know that you are a bit young, by todays standards, to be married, but we don't have to get married straight away," he told me, his voice shaking as he rushed his words. "I would wait forever for you. I just...looking at Stanley and Layla, it has put things into perspective, and I realised that we don't have all the time in the world. So we should make the best use of the time we do have, and...I want to spend the rest of my life, however long that may be, with you. So, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?" I felt tears well up in my eyes. Jesse had spoken so fast that I barely understood what he had said, but I got the gist of it, and it was beautiful. So, I nodded. Very slowly. So slowly infact, that I am sure Jesse didn't notice. So, I accompanied this brief movement with a choked "yes". To say that Jesse looked surprised was an understatement. The look of terror that had gripped his handsome face as soon as he had produced the ring seemed to vanish in an instant.

"I'm sorry?" He asked delicately, his voice no longer shaking, but strong and full of amazement. I burst into tears. I couldn't help it.

"Yes," I repeated, louder this time. "I will marry you." I wanted to throw my arms around him, I really did, but every muscle in my body seemed to be paralysed. I could only watch on with tears in my eyes as Jesse picked up my left hand and gently slid the ring onto my finger, smiling as he did so. He didn't let go of my hand, but he looked up into my eyes and I felt myself falling once again. Finally able to control my body (but only to a certain extent), I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him again. But I knew that this kiss differed from allthe others. Because this kiss signalled the start of a new life..._our_ new life. Together.

* * *

I couldn't really hear the voices around me. I wasn't deliberately blocking them out, they just seemed to drift past my ears, barely invading my conciousness. I guess the huge grin that was plastered on my face wasn't helping much. It did, however, cause a few people to ask a few inappropriate questions such as "So, I guess you finally got laid?" (courtesy of Adam) and "did someone spike your drink?" (courtesy of CeeCee). 

I had, of course, removed the ring as soon as Jesse had dropped me off home and placed it on my right hand. I still hadn't figured out what I was going to tell my mother, but I sure as hell didn't want her hearing it from someone else. Especially Dopey, who would be ecstatic at the fact that I had so freely handed him some ammo worth using. So nobody had the slightest idea that I was engaged to the hottest guy in the school. Except, of course, the hottest guy in the school, who kept smiling at me secretly from where he sat with a group of seniors he had befriended. It was these smiles, I'm sure, that had convinced Adam that I was no longer as pure as I insisted I was. But today I didn't care what he, or anybody else thought.

It was lunch, so obviously a fair amount of people had noticed my ring, but no-one suspected its true meaning. Not even Paul, who sauntered in an hour late, looking extremely dishevelled. I didn't even bother asking why. I assumed that it was for the same reason that I strolled in late way too often than was acceptable. Honestly, if Father D hadn't been a fellow mediator, I would have been expelled long ago.

"So, where did you go last night?" CeeCee enquired, snapping me out of my reverie. All I could manage was a startled "huh?". She rolled her eyes.

"I tried to call you, but your mom said you went out," she mentioned, picking at a sandwich she had produced from her bag. "So I called back an hour later, and you were still gone. Then an hour later and...well, you get the picture." I didn't even have to force a smile this time.

"Oh, I just took a walk down to the beach," I told her. "I fell asleep, so I lost track of the time." It was true, but I decided not to mention that I had fallen asleep in _Jesse's arms_, after he had _proposed to me_ whilst we were _watching the sunset_. She was always complaining about how romantic he was, and how all that she and Adam ever did was sit around at the Clutch, drinking coffe until they started to twitch. She thought it was sweet how Jesse was always taking me out places, and we would go off together and not be heard from for hours. Little did she know that the reason he would take me off places was so that we could kick some ghostly butt and the reason that we weren't heard from for hours was either that I'd been knocked out or was so angry that Jessehad lockedme in his apartment until I cooled down. Yeah, so romantic.

"So, what's the story with that ring then?" Asked Paul who had just that moment decided to join us. Why, I do not know; he is one of the most popular guys in our year (and I say _one_ because of the incident at Brad's party, which some people weren't too keen to forget) and could sit with the likes of Kelly Prescott. Paul looked a lot better now, more alert and less...scruffy.

"So what's the story with you wandering in late Mr. one-hundred per-cent attendance?" I fired back at him. He shrugged.

"Bad dreams," he muttered. "My head hurts like hell." Uh-huh. Like I was going to believe that.

"Liar, you've been...shifting," I spat, whispering the last word. He glared at me and shrugged again, pulling a can of soda out of his bag.

"So?" I glared right back at him. I had warned him about shifting, and ever since discovering that his grandfather wasn't as far gone as he'd thought, he had decided that he didn't want to kill himself, and agreed to stop. So why was he doing it now?

"What?" He demanded, becoming defensive all of a sudden and then relaxing once he saw my threatening expression. "Alright, alright. After you told me about you-know-who, I started doing some poking around. I talked to a few...people...to try and find out who he was." He paused as he took a swig from his can. "I didn't find much out. I thought that maybe Kurt was one of us and he brought this guy back to do the dirty work for him." I had, of course, told him all about my little chat with Kurt. "But no-one up there, not even the gatekeeper, knows who this guy is. They've never seen him!"

I wanted to continue this subject, I really did, but I wasn't in the mood for anything that would kill my current high. I had promised myself that I would have this day off from all things ghostly and concentrate on planning a speech for my mother. But what could I say? She would be shocked however I put it! She would say that she knew that he was too old for me, and that marriage was a serious thing and I shouldn't commit myself to the first steady boyfriend that I had. Maybe I should introduce her to Madam Zara.

"No offence, Paul." I winced, realising that the sun shone in my eyes when I looked at him. "But I really don't want to discuss this today." He just smiled at me and suggested that we discuss my new ring instead. He knew. There was something in that smile that told me so. So, I had no other choice but to pull them aside and whisper the details of last night to them.

Their reactions were...astounding. Adam just grinned insanely for reasons unknown, CeeCee actually looked as though she was having a coronary; she stepped back and held a hand over her gaping mouth, he eyes wider than I had ever seen them before. Paul...well he just stood there, smiling.

"Congratulations Simon," he uttered, placing a hand on my shoulder. I could tell by his tone that he was uncomfortable with this. I guess a part of him still liked me, but he was moving on and even sounded happy for me. But it must have been hard for him. I couldn't help but smile back at him. Things were going great between us, greater than I ever could have hoped for. It took me a few moments to realise that CeeCee was talking to me.

"You're actually getting married!" she squealed as quietly as she could. I glanced around for Brad and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw him desperatley trying to get Debbie Mancuso's attention. She seemed fixated on a group of seniors. No prizes for guessing who was in that group. "I can't believe it! I'm so happy for you. Jesse is perfect!" She pulled me into a great big hug and I laughed as I hugged her back. At least my friends seemed happy about it.

"I'm glad you saw that it would never have worked between us," Adam said, very sarcastically, placing a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. "I know that you will always be thinking about me, but just knowthat your future lies with him now." I was so happy that I played along.

"Aw, thanks," I replied in a sickeningly sweet voice. "I knew you'd understand."

But would my mother?

* * *

After school, I didn't head for the Rover. Instead, I sauntered over to Jesse's car, where he stood waiting foe me. My mom hadsome meeting to go to and Andy had taken the night off to go bowling (or something, I wasn't really listening), so I didn't have to worry about missing one of Andy's lovingly-prepared meals. 

"Hello, _querida_," he said as I walked up to him. He straightened up and opened the passenger door for me, like the true gentleman he was. It was one of those little quirks that made him so special. Like when he refused to eat until I had been seated, and when he removed his jacket during a torrential downpoar (despite the fact that he wore a very thin tee beneath it) and wrapped it around my shoulders. The one quirk I could do without, however,is the one where he keeps his hands to himself.

"Hey," I replied, climbing into the car. Once I was seated, I removed my ring and placed it back on the correct finger. He noticed this and smiled.

"So you still haven't thought of how you will tell your mother?" He asked. I shook my head in reply.

"No, and I'm not letting you tell her!" I said. "She can be worse than my dad when she gets angry and that's saying something." Speaking of fathers, something had been bugging me since he proposed.

"Um...Jesse." He turned to look at me as he started the engine. "I can't help but wonder why you never asked Andy if you could marry me. Isn't that what you did back in 18-whenever?" Jesse smiled that all-knowing, smug smile.

"But he isn't your father," he reminded me.I knew_ that_, of course. But my real father wasn't exactly available anymore. I obviously looked completely confused because he continued talking. "And I asked your real father. Before he moved on. He came to visit me once I had been released from hospital and gave us his blessing. I knew that he would have to move on eventually, so I asked him. For, um, future reference." Wow. My dad really must have liked him. This really should have made me feel better. I mean, my father is the hardest parent to win over, so technically my mother should be a doddle, right? Wrong. The thing is, my dad had known Jesse for almost a year. He had known him way back before we got together, and knew that he would never treat me bad. He had seen me distraught over losing him twice, and even knew about the countless times that he had saved my life. He hadwitnessed the repect that Jesse treated me with.What did my mom know? That heis my boyfriend. That's it. I couldn't exactly tell her all of the stuff that my dad knew, either. Not without mentioning the whole mediator thing. And that would just upset her even more.

I guess I must have looked pretty bummed, because Jesse placed his hand over mine.

"If you think it will help, I will ask Andy and if he says yes, we will tell your mother. Together." On the word 'together' he queezed my hand. I instantly remembered the day that I travelled back in time to save him. He had been sucked into his lifeless body and I thought that I had lost him forever. Until he gently squeezed my hand. That tiny, seemingly insignificant, movement made me happer than I had ever been in my whole, entire life. Because it meant that Jesse,_ my Jesse_, was alive and well.

"Thank you," I uttered, shaking away those happy memories. Not long from now, this day will be also a happy memory. One I didn't intend to forget for a long time.

* * *

**AN - That isn't the whole chapter. It's only the first half, heh. But I'm going away for the weekend and wanted to get something posted before I left. What do you think her mother will say? Paul will be coming into it more now. And don't worry, he's not going to try and murder Jesse or anything ;).**

**I honestly can't thank you guys enough for the reviews. It's getting increasingly difficult to write new chapters because I'm into the story and the new stuff I churn out will have to live up to the previous chapters. It's really difficult, lol. But your reviews let me know that there are still people who read this, and they keep me sane.**

**Now, in reply to a few of my reviews (I haven't done this in a while, lol :))...**

**SweetlySarcastic - OMG! Jesse is two-timing everyone here! But he's so cute we can't stay mad at him :). Thanks for saying what you liked :) I love those reviews the best.**

**Animebuffbob - Hmm...you're close. That was one of the ideas that I was toying around with...BUT (dun dun DUN!)I thought of another idea.**

**bbblfl - Thank you for the constructive reviews :). Like I said before, I love hearing what people liked and didn't like about certain chapters so that I know what to improve on and what to continue doing. Too bad I'm rubbish at writing those kind of reviews, lol.**

**And to everyone who reads...press that reviewbutton...it's calling to you...:)**

**Disclaimer - I don't own the mediator. I also don't own the song I used, so will somebody _please_ get it out of my head!**


	11. The Pros and Cons of Breathing

**Only The Good**

_Bury me standing under your window with this cinder block in hand  
Yeah cause no one will ever feel like this again  
And if I could move I'm sure it would only be to crawl back to you  
I must have dragged my guts a block... they were gone by the time we (talked)_

**_Fall Out Boy - The Pros and Cons of Breathing_**

I wasn't looking forward to returning home. So I went to the mall. Yes, that's how much I feared facing Andy and my mother. If I was going to be caught up in a storm of emotions, I at least wanted to look nice for it. And God knows retail therapy does wonders to sooth frazzled nerves.

Jesse wasn't even reluctant to traipse around countless numbers of boutiques with me, like any normal boyfriend would be. Not that we visited a great number. We had been at the mall for two whole hours and I was still in my first shop. For one of those hours I had been striking various poses for both Jesse and the mirror, trying to decide which dress to buy. The one I currently wore, a pale green slip dress did wonders for my backside, but the black one I had just removed accentuated my curves.

"What do you think?" I asked Jesse, the mirror being no help at all. He turned to look at me, having obviously been in a world of his own, and nodded. I scowled to let him know that this was not at all helpful and he smiled.

"Whatever," he said. Damnme for teaching him that word!I sighed and sidestepped back into the cubicle where I changed back into my own clothes. When I resurfaced, I hung both dresses and the three pairs of jeans I had collected on a rack just outside the changing rooms.

"You are useless!" I fumed.

"Oh, I have my uses," he smiled, placing his arm around me as we vacated the store. I was torturing him, I know, but he was too polite to tell me so.

Before I could drag him into a lingerie store - which would, I'm sure, have given the poor guy a heart attack - he suggested that we go somewhere to eat. I had to agree, and so did my stomach. It was funny how I ate so little at lunch. But what can I say? My mind was on something, or someone, far more important to me than food. Because, like nourishment, I needed Jesse to survive. Soppy, I know, but it was true. Without him, I would only be half alive.

We settled down in the same food court I had dined with Gina in last time she was here. I was already suffering from mall-related sensory overload, but it was better than going home. Sure, Andy and mom would still be out, but there was still Brad (who loved to torture me...not that it ever worked), Jake (who was still going on about my bruised neck) and Doc (who loved to constantly lecture me on NASA's new advancements or whatever) to deal with. And I didn't want Jesse to have to endure yet another surf lecture from Jake.

As I sat munching on my fries, I couldn't help but wonder what my mother's reaction would be. In one scenario, she swept me up in her arms and swung me around, screaming with delight, while in another she started hitting Jesse with the dog brush. Both scenarios were highly embarassing, but I knew neither of them would happen. The most likely outcome would be her crying into her pillow again after having lectured me on that commitment really is. Either that or just avoiding me until she decided whether or not she liked the idea.

Regardless, it was dark by the time Jesse and I returned to ninety-nine Pine Crest Road and Andy's Mustang was already parked neatly beside the kid's Rover. Thank God my mom's car was nowhere to be seen. I made quite a fuss as Jesse dragged me up the porch steps, I have to admit. I even scuffed my Prada slides (ironically the same ones which had broken Maria de Silva Diego's pretty little neck with one stomp).

Ansy was there to greet us when I opened the front door.

"Have fun, kids?" He asked. I scowled at him. Jesse and I were hardly 'kids'. In fact, Jesse hadn't been a kid for about, oh, a hundred and sixty years. But he didn't need to know that. So I assured him that we had had fun, not caring if my scowl had assured him otherwise.

"Sir, could I talk to you for a moment?" Jesse asked, ever so politely. But that was him all over.Andy looked surprised, but agreed, smiling as he lead Jesse into the living room. I guess that he was having fun, playing father to a girl for a change. I decided to make myself scarce and wandered up to my room, deciding that it would be good for me to keep a lookout for my mom from my window. Besides, if Andy had a problem with it, I would be able to hear him yell from my bedroom.

There were two thing that surprised me when I entered my bedroom. One was the ghostly Layla tugging at my bedsheets, and the other was a note that lay folded up on my dressing table. Layla heard the door shut behind me.

"Oh, sorry," she mumbled, obviously embarassed. "Your room was a mess, and I...well I have a thing about messy stuff." I laughed, causing her to blush. "Um...Stanley told me about your...visitor." She looked at me questiongly, waiting for an answer.

"Oh yeah?" I know,smooth. Layla raised an eyebrow at me, like I should have known better than to have said that. I turned away from her and picked up the folded paper.

"He's very dangerous, this man," she stated. "Don't involve yourself with him." I chuckled again, unfolding the note. Who could have left it? I noticed Layla eyeing it suspiciously.

"Who is he?" I heard her sigh.

"It's in your best interests that you don't know." I obviously wasn't going to get anymore from her. "He's a very dangerous man. Don't get involved." Involved? I was already involved, apparantly.

I opened the last fold of the letter to see thick, black writing. It was straight yet still messy. I didn't recognise it. But when I read what its owner had to say, I gasped, causing Layla to walk over.

_**One heart will break while two unite. Don't say I didn't warn you.**_

I felt her cold hand on my wrist as she pulled it down to read the cryptic letter. I don't know why, but a shiver ran up and down my spine as I read the words over and over again. LAyla was obviously as oblivious to its meaning as I was.

"I thought I felt...a presence here," she informed me. "It wasn't nice. Stanley and I have been taking turns to watch you ever since you were attacked." Somehow, this didn't surprise me. It would explain the footsteps at Jesse's, and the reason why Crazy English Guy hadn't returned. I wondered whether I should tell her about him visiting Paul. I wasn't sure what it meant, but it couldn't have been anything good.

"That man," she continued. "Used to torment Stanley when he was commited. I exorcised him, but he came back. I saw him on the night I died. He just stood there, smiling at me..." Her expression faltered as she trailed her words off and I swear she was about to say something else, but my bedroom door flew open. I looked up, ready to curse whoever it was, only to see Jesse, looking extremely pleased with himself. But why? Oh, yes! He was asking Andy for my hand in marriage. I turned to apologise to Layla, but she was already gone.

"_Querida_," he sang, taking me in his arms. "He said yes!" He what? I couldn't control the grin that slowly crept its way across my face.

"That's brilliant!" I squealed. I wrapped my arms around his neck, drawing him closer to me. This was amazing!

"I explained that we didn't intend to marry straight away and he said that if your mother didn't like it, he would try to talk her round." He was obviously thrilled. "This is really happening!" He let go of me and wandered over to the window seat, staring out into thenight. As he did so, I bent down and picked up the cryptic threat. I couldn't trouble him with this. Not now, he was way too happy. So, I opened one of the drawers in my dressing table and hastily shoved it inside. Jesse heard the soft thud of the drawer closing and turned to look at me, smiling. I could only smile back, concealing the pain that it caused me to lie to him. Our eyes met and all the emotions that we had kept bottled up for so long seemed to break free from their prisons.

I took a step forward, ready to kiss him passionately, but my window suddenly shattered and a glowing hand grasped the back of Jesse's shirt. I barely had time to scream before it yanked hard, pulling him though the window.I jumped through the now-open window, hoping to see Jesse, dazed but unhurt, sprawled out on the pine needle-covered roof. But he was nowhere to be seen. Neither was the ghost which the hand belonged to. It wasn't until I heard a woman - my mother - scream down by the carport, that I looked over the side. This time I screamed.

* * *

**AN - Yeah, I suck at cliffhangers. And I'm suffering from mild writer's block, so I apologise if that chapter was a bit...crap. It's short, and I swear I'm trying to make them longer. But I seem to be posting half-chapters at a time. **

**So...what happened to Jesse! Don't worry, SweetlySarcastic, it won't be all lollypops and candycanes. As Father Dominic once said "horrors such as you and I could never imagine are about to begin". Well, almost. I'm almost finished re-reading the mediator series, and once that happens, it's on to Dean Koontz. Phantoms in particular, so...heh.**

**Review please, they are the best cure for writer's block, lol :P.**

**Disclaimer - Me + owns nothing.**


	12. Only The Good Die Young

**Only The Good**

_**Chapter 11 - **Only The Good Die Young_

You gladly gave me everything you had and more,  
You craved my happiness,  
When you make me feel joy it makes you smile,  
But now I feel your stress,  
Love was never meant to be such a crazy affair, no  
And who has time for tears,  
Never thought I'd sit around and cry for your love,  
'till now.

**Akira Yamaoka & Melissa Williamson - You're Not Here**

I was falling. Surrounded by nothingness, I tumbled for what seemed like an eternity. Then I saw it. A tiny piece of paper. I reached out, but it flew out of my reach. My fingers barely grazed the edge before it fluttered further away. A strange noise seemed to emanate from it. A sort of beeping. It was steady and loud. I propelled myself forward one last time and my fingers closed around the flimsy paper.

"Suze." I bolted upright at the sound of my mothers voice. She looked worn out and I can't say that I blamed her. After all, it's not every day that you see your daughter's boyfriend fall twenty-odd feet to the ground. "Do you want me to bring you some clothes?" I nodded feebly and turned my attention to the figure on the bed beside me. It was then that I realised what the beeping in my dream was; a heart monitor.

I could vaguely recall the events that broughtus here. It had all happened so fast, I wasn't sure if it was all a terrible nightmare or not. One minute we were rejoicing over our engagement, and the next, something, no, some_one_, pulled him out of my window and threw him to the ground. My mother had just returned home when she saw him lying there, unmoving. We took him straight to the hospital, and the police were notified. I told them that someone had pushed him off the roof, although I hadn't seen who. It was the only explanation for my smashed window. The doctors were amazed with his injuries. As they said, by rights he should be dead. But he's a mediator, and we are very hard to kill. Like that time Diego threw me into Jesse's grave. I had survived with only a mild concussion. But Jesse had been flung to the ground, so he suffered a few broken bones and one hell of a concussion. But he hadn't regained conciousness yet, and I was beginning to worry. And not just because of the blood. Oh yes, there was blood. He sustained a few cuts when the window shattered, sending shards of glass into him. But the doctors had assured me that it was nothing fatal.

I knew who had done this to him, and I couldn't help blaming myself. If only I had shown him that note, then right now we would have been trying to tell my mother about our engagement. Although, I think she already knows. I swear she saw my ring when we were lifting Jesse into the back of her car (yes, ironic isn't it? Paul and I had done that about a month ago), and just before I dozed off, I noticed her talking to Andy and occasionally looking over at me. If she was mad, she wouldn't show it. Not now.

I curled my fingers around Jesse's hand, enjoying the warmth that I felt. I would make him pay for this. Nobody hurts Jesse and gets away with it.

"Oh my God, what happened?" I looked up to see Paul standing in the doorway of Jesse's private room, a ghostly companion by his side. "I heard that there had been an accident, but..." He trailed off as he saw me glaring at the ghost.

"If you had just told me who he was, none of this would have happened!" Stanley looked taken aback. After all, he'd obviously brought Paul here. He didn't reply, he just stared at Jesse. After a few moments of silence, hefinally spoke.

"Is he...going to be alright?" He asked, choosing his words carefully. I nodded.

"The doctors seem to think so, although they say he isn't out of the woods just yet. They said that he was lucky. They don't understand how the fall didn't kill him." I didn't look at the ghost. Instead, I gazed at Jesse's face, which was perfect, as always. He just looked like he was sleeping. Which I guess he was, except it was a chemical-induced sleep.

"He didn't know that he was a mediator," Stanley said, catching me off-guard.

"What do you mean?" Paul enquired, obviously as intrigued as I was. Stanley looked from Paul to me, then to the comatose Jesse.

"You know who I mean," he replied. "Either he didn't know that he was a mediator, and was trying ot kill him, or he just wanted him out of the way for a while." He was right. I knew who he meant.Crazy English Guy had done this. He was the only ghost I knew with a current grudge against me. He had left me that note and then injured - or tried to kill - Jesse.

"But I don't understand," I said aloud, meaning only to think it. "Why now? He's left me alone for the past few days so why now?" Stanley smiled at me.

"Harold Raimes. That's his name. Look him up, I've already said too much," he told me as he started to shimmer. "Don't worry, Layla and I will stay with Jesse when you leave." And then he disappeared, leaving me alone with Paul.

"Why does that name sound familiar?" He asked. I shrugged. This whole thing was confusing me. I hated cryptic messages. I still hadn't figured out what the note meant. Well, not entirely. The bit about one heart breaking when two unite ovbiouvly meant that someone's heart would break when Jesse and I married. Which made me wonder if Crazy English Guy - Sorry, Harold - was in love with me. Ick. That would be weird. And the 'don't say I didn't warn you' bit was probably a screwed up warning about Jesse's trip out of the window.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and almost jumped a mile. I hadn't noticed Paul come up behind me.

"We'll get him, Suze," he assured me. "Mark my words."

* * *

It didn't take CeeCee long to come up with the relevant information. Harold Raimes, it appeared, was an Englishman who fell in love with a Californian woman. 

"Apparantly he moved to Salinas from Kent to be with this woman, but they broke up after a few months," CeeCee told me, reading from something she'd printed from her laptop. CeeCee, Adam and I were at the beach. They had dragged me from Jesse's side stating that it wasn't doing me any good, and what will he think when he wakes up to seeme looking like the bride of Frankenstein. I didn't look _that_ bad. Alright, so I had huge bags under my eyes and my hair looked like it hadn't been washed in days, but 'Mrs. Frankenstein'was pushing it a bit far. So they took me home, forced me to shower and then dragged me to the beach so that we could talk without being spied on by my mother.

"And, according to CeeCee's discovery, he became obsessed with her." This was Adam's input. "He wouldn't leave her alone. She eventually had to put a restraining order on him. Then, he went completely psychopathic." CeeCee puled back her piece of paper and continued her story.

"She found a new boyfriend, andour friend Harold didn't like it one bit. He constantly tried to split them up until one day he took it too far. He turned up at her house with a gun and threatened her. It turned out that she was engaged to her new boyfriend, and he didn't like that idea. So he shot her. The boyfriend, too. He was tried for double homicide and then commited to the same psychiactric hospital that Stanley would later be commited to. Three weeks after being commited, he hung himself. That was seven years ago." CeeCee paused to observe my expression. I was trying to conceal my emotions, but it was impossible. How did Jesse do it? "But that's not even the worst part. I've searched through the papers for deaths over the past seven years, and get this. Four women have been murdered by their ex-boyfriend's. Three more were killed and their death's never explained. And they are all within 50 miles of the psychiatric hospital where he died. At the trials, the killers insisted that they couldn't remember anything about the night that the girls were murdered. And...this is the interesting part...Every single couple had either recently gotten engaged, moved in together, or found out that they were expecting a baby." I shook my head, I didn't want to believe it.

"He knew that we were engaged, so he tried to stop it by killing Jesse," I muttered, more to myself than to my friends. "But, isn't it usually the women who get attacked?" CeeCee's expression darkned as she forced herself to look at me.

"I don't think that Jesse's the one he wants to kill."

* * *

I couldn't take anymore of our discussion, so I excused myself and returned to the hospital. Even if he couldn't see or hear me, I just wanted to spend time with Jesse. But it turned out that he was perfectly capable of holding a conversation. 

"_Querida_," he groaned as I sat next to his bed. He was weak, I could tell by the way his voice faltered as he spoke.

"Hey," I said, unable to hide the joy I felt. I reached down and held his hand. It felt so good to feel his fingers gently curl around my own.

"Are you...'lright?" He asked. It obviously caused him great pain to talk.

"I'm fine," I assured him, concerned that he wasn't more worried about himself. "You should be worrying about yourself right now." He turned his head to look at me, and I swear I almost burst into tears. I had never seen him look so...helpless before. The look he gave me broke my heart, and before I could stop myself, I spilled everything that CeeCee had told me. After my outburst had ceased, he said nothing. Instead, he gripped my hand as tightly as he could (which wasn't very tight, what with the amount of sedatives he was on). But this feeble grip needed no interpretation. He was scared for me again.

"Be careful," he urged me. "Don't...go after him yourself." I smiled. I didn't intend to go after him myself. I intended to drag Paul along, too. And maybe Father Dominic, to perform the exorcism. But I planned to make this guy as sorry as I could before booting him off to Hell. I then asked Jesse a question that had plagued my mind ever since my talk with CeeCee.

"Is possesion of a human being possible?" He seemed confused by my question. He closed his eyes, obviously deep in thought. Either that or he had dozed off again.

"Yes," he said after a moment's silence. "A malevolent force can take posession of either...object or house and even a person." This just caused more questions to plague my mind.

"What do you mean by 'malevolent force'?" I asked, almost forgetting how difficult it was for him to talk. He sighed.

"A demon is basically a malevolent spirit. Like...Heather. No regard for human life, and intent on causing harm. Slightly worse than a poltergeist because they...can take posession of things. But it is difficult. They are...drawn to people...who are suffering or have recently suffered from the same...negative emotions that they felt in life. Because...they act as an open wound...making posession...easier..." He obviously wanted to say more, but was unable.

I felt his grip on me loosen as he drifted off once again. I didn't even attempt to wake him. Instead, I lay my head on his shoulder (which the doctors had assured me was not broken) and closed my eyes. I felt a cold hand on my shoulder as I drifted off andheard Layla whisper "Don't let him win." And I didn't intend to.

* * *

"Honey what's wrong? You look terrible." Those were my mother's first words as I entered the house. I was perfectly happy to spend the night at the hospital again, but the nurses told me to go home and rest. Besides, Jesse had Layla and Stanley to look after him in case Harold returned to finish the job. 

"I'm fine, mom," I assured her. As fine as I could be, considering the love of my life was lying in a hospital bed. But my mom came over and huggedme anyway.

"Honey, I know this is hard," she whispered into my hair. "But the doctors said that he's going to be fine. And the police are looking for whoever did it." I let out a little sob into her shoulder. I was a natural worrier, and until Jesse was home, I would worry about him. She let go of me and led me over to the sofa before signalling for me to sit down.

"I know that this may be the wrong time to bring this up, but I think that we need to discuss, um..." She nodded to my left hand where my engagement ring remained on my ring finger. I couldn't help but silently curse it. Of course, I was ecstatic about being engaged to my one true love, but if CeeCee was right, then his proposal sparked the series of events that led to his hospitalisation. And I would rather have Jesse than a diamond ring.

I nodded in reply, hoping that it looked feeble enough for her to go easy on me.

"Are you sure that this is what you want?" She asked, being very careful about what she said. "I mean, you are only seventeen. You have your whole life ahead of you."

"My life is nothing without him." I interrupted, causing her to sigh.

"Suzie, you can't commit yourself to the first boy you fall in love with." I laughed. I couldn't help it. If she only knew how much shit we had been through for each other, she would understand. But I couldn't tell her.

"He's the only guy I'll _ever_ fall in love with." I didn't expect her to understand. "Besides, didn't you meet dad in high school? You married the first boy _you_ fell in love with."

"Things were different back then." I had to laugh again. She sounded so much like Jesse.

"Mom, I know you want me to make the right decisions," I told her in the most sincerest voice I could manage. "But just because you don't approve of what I choose, itdoesn't mean that it isn't right. I love him and I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I just hope thatyou can understand that."

I didn't expect her to react the way she did, which was burstinto tears. I felt so helpless as I placed a hand over hers.

"Yes, I understand," she sobbed. "And if it's what you truly want, then I'm hapy for you, and I'll stand by you every step of the way." Wow. Talk about anti-climactic. I had been prepared for World War III to break out. I guess Andy's words of encouragement did the job.

And talking about jobs, I had one to do. It was time to involve Father Dominic.

* * *

**AN - Wow, would you look at that! A next day update and it's not as short as usual! I honestly don't usually update this frequently, but I've had a lot of sick days lately and I hate lying around feeling sorry for myself.**

**Thank you for all the reviews! I was surprised by the ones for last chapter, I honestly expected a few bad ones. But come on, you honestly didn't think I'd kill Jesse, did you:PBut what will happen to Suze with him out of action?**

**For those of you who are wondering where the song is from (probably nobody, lol), it's from the Silent Hill 3 OST. Great soundtrack.**

**Disclaimer - I don't own anything. Except the story. And Crazy English Guy, but you can have him if you want.**


	13. The Calm Before The Storm

**Only The Good**

_Angellore revered at dusk  
For thee I rose, now descend all alone  
Rise for me, soothe my heart  
So wide a sea, may I overcome  
Into the night strays an angel  
So lost and tearful, all astray  
Lo where's the pale horizon  
Oh where is dyingness  
You reach for me beyond so wide a sea_

**_Tristania - Angellore_**

"Susannah, you can't be serious?" Father Dominic repeated for the seventh time (yes, I had been counting). He shook his head, as if by doing so he could shake my suggestion away. "This...man has already hurt you, and now he has almost killed Jesse. There is no reasoning with a force like that. You cannot exercise him without putting yourself, and everyone you know and love in danger."

I sighed. He didn't get it, he really didn't.

"But Father, what else am I supposed to do?" I was mighty frustrated now. "It's clear that this guy was involved in Layla's murder, and now he wants to off me in the same way. He obviously wanted Jesse out of the way so that he has a free shot of me. And look, I'm an open target now!" I held my arms out to emphasise my point. Father Dom just blinked at me.

"You must get your family out of here. You must get as far away from here as you can," he told me. Yeah, like I'd listened to him last time he hadsuggested that.

"And that's your answer for everything, is it? Run? No matter where I run, he will find me! And I can't let him get away with what he has done." I stared at the ground, not wanting to look into the good Father's kind face. He was a priest; too pure to witness the emotions that were suddenly coursing through every vein, consuimng all that I am. I was feeling murderous.

"Susannah, I understand your anger, I really do," he spoke, his gentle voice momentarily taming the fire that raged inside of me. He opened his mouth to speak again, but stopped himself. His lightly-wrinkled brow knotted as he toyed with an idea in his head.

"Father D?" My voice roused him from his musings and his baby blues met my gaze.

"Maybe you could stay with Mr. Slater for the time being, and-"

"Whoa!" What the hell was he thinking? Me, shack up with Paul? While my boyfriend was in the _hospital_?I am so sure.I know where my loyalties lie, and I can say with much certainty that they do not lie in Paul's bed. Which is where he'd tried to get me last time I had went there. Things like that take a lot to get over. "What did you just say?"

Father Dominic sighed at me again. I am seriously bad for this guy's health, mental or otherwise.

"Susannah, Paul is at risk as much as you are. He is your friend, and a fellow shifter. You know that he will try to protect you, and this Harold fellow will most likely want him out of the way aswell." I snorted. Very unpretty, I know.

"Father D, Harold had no problem throwing Jesse out of my window when we were mere inches apart," I pointed out, rage building up inside of me. "Do you honestly think that my staying close to Paul will protect him...protect us?" I felt so helpless. I had nobody to protect me. Nobody except Stanley and Layla, and they were both dead and obviously no match for English Harold considering the way their last altercation with him turned out.

"Please, Father D, you have to help me! Because if you don't, then I swear I will do it by myself." This statement caused a shocked expression to form on the good Father's kind features. Last time he had refused to help me with an exorcism (granted, _I_ was the soul being exorcised), I had turned to an eight-year old boy. His expression relaxed and he sighed in resignation. Slowly shaking his head, he stood up and began to pace the floor of his small office.

"Very well," he muttered. His voice was so low that I had to strain my delicate ears to hear him. "But it will have to wait a few days. The monsignor is preparing for a very important sermon and will not be clear of the rectory, even in the night, for at least two or three days. And we shall also need a picture of Harold to summon him to the rectory."

A few days? This couldn't wait a few days! Father Dom obviously read my expression because he gave me yet another lecture on how a proper exorcism was done, and that "this voodoo business" was a "terrible way of seeing a lost soul on his way...even one so evil as Harold". Which was kind of stupid, because whichever way you looked at it, an exorcism was an exorcism and the ghost being exorcised will go to the same place whether the exorcism was Catholic or Voodoo. The only difference was the method. And Mecumba happened to be the shortest...albeit the messiest.

After a few long minutes, Father Dom let me go and I ran out to my mom's car, which I had borrowed in order to travel to the Mission. It was a Saturday, so school was out (not that I had attended yesterday...I was granted 'recovery time' due to the mental anguish I suffered over Jesse's sudden attack), and almost a week since Layla first called upon me. It was strange, how much had happened in the past six days. It had felt like years. Last Saturday I was unmarried, had no idea that Harold Raimes existed, had Jesse by my side and was not constantly looking over my shoulder. Now I was engaged, being stalked by some nutcase, visiting my boyfriend in the hospital in my spare time (and time that should have been spent doing something productive, like catching up on all the Geometry work I had missed), constantly paranoid and, oh yeah, losing my mind. Seriously, I was. What else could explain my sudden outburst of laughter as soon as I crawled into the driving seat of my mom's car. I was laughing so hard I was almost crying. My laughs slowly turned into sobs and I lay my head on the top of the steering wheel. My nose hit the horn, but I didn't care. At least with all the noise, nobody would hear me crying my poor little heart out. But it bothered someone enough to compell them to hammer on the window, rousing me from my self-destructive thoughts.

"Suze!" Who the hell was this? I sat up straight and looked to my left to see Paul Slater smiling at me. Ooh, I would like nothing better than to wipe that smarmy grin right off his face. I must have been throwing him a pretty hostile look, because the smile faded and he told me to wind the window down.

"Are you alright?" he asked. I smiled at him, baring my teeth (losing my mind, I tell you) and he rolled his eyes.

"Alright, stupid question. Forget it. I've been down to the hospital and I was talking to Layla." He stopped talking, obviously expecting me to say something, but I just continued to stare at him. "And...It turns out that they had no idea that Harold had posessed Kurt until a couple of days ago. That day when Stanley saved you, he recognised him from back when Harold used to torment him in his room at the institution, the same room where Harold killed himself. But Layla exorcised Harold. So, he got back somehow, my belief is that hesnuck back down into this world during an exorcism. Then, he followed Layla and Stanley around for a while, until he found Kurt. Now, Jesse told me about demons being drawn to people with the same negative emotions that they felt in life. Kurt was obviously the candidate this time around. So, Harold posseses Kurt, lures Layla somewhere secluded and then murders her. _But..._he didn't count on Stanley turning up. Stanley almost saved Layla, making his posession of Kurt almost pointless. And posession greatly drains a ghost's energy." He paused again and observed me. He turned around, scanning the area before making his was over to the passenger door and climbing in beside me before continuing. "There's no doubt that he's coming after you. He has learned from his previous mistakes, and realised how far Jesse would go to protect you. So, he got him out of the way. Listen...I talked to the doctors and they sais that Jesse is making a miraculous recovery...he's healing twice as fast as he should be, and they might be able to let him out by Wednesday...earlier if he has someone to look after him at home. Which gives Harold four days, max., to kill you."

I stared at him, speechless. He didn't beat around the bush, did he? I skimmed over his short speech in my mind. Harold coming down to Earth during an exorcism? Stanley ruining his plan? Jesse recovering faster than normal? I attributed the last one to Stanley and Layla, who had probably found some spectral way to help him. But really, they weren't helping me! This guy wanted to beat the shit outta me! And he'd done a good job so far...my throat was stil bruised (it had turned greenish purple now), and my emotional state was well below 'sane' thanks to the love of my life's near-death experience.

I had a dream about him last night. Jesse, I mean. I dreamt that I was calling to him, and he came. He started to apologise about leaving me on my own (yeah...he's apologising to me for nearly dying) and told me to watch my back. Then he held me and whispered some Spaish stuff into my hair. Even in my dreams, it felt good to be close to him. When I woke up, I thought that he had died, and this was his way of getting a message to me. So, I rang the hospital (bearing in mind that I wook up at four AM) and started babbling down the earpiece, almost in tears, begging to know if Jesse was alright. The nurse chuckled at me and assured me that he was alive and well. I even made her check, the dream affected me that much. She checked and even got him to call me back (apparantly the sedatives had worn off and he was now wide awake, unable to sleep) and talk me out of my frenzy. He sounded better now, he wasn't slurring any of his words or pausing to breath. Apparantly he had a wicked bruise up his left side and was finding breathing painful, but other than that, he assured me that he felt 'unnaturally fine'.

"Suze, please say something." Paul begged, observing me with what I can only assume was a look of great concern. Concern didn't suit Paul Slater, it never did.

"So...what do I do?" I had realised that I hadn't spoken a single word to him since he appared by my window. "I mean...Father Dom said that we can't use the rectory for an exorcism - and God knows that consecrated ground is the best place to perform and exorcism...and the only available space big enough for Harold to tear apart without hurting anyone- but the monsignor will be there twenty-four-seven until at least Monday. Besides, He came back once, he can do it again, right?"

"Actually," Paul said. Uh-oh...when Paul said_ this_ in _that_ tone, it usually meant something dangerous. "Exorcisms performed on the appropriate ground for the style are usually most successful, and the spirit is booted off to wherever they're supposed to go to next. And...if that doesn't work, one of us should go up there and..._persuade_ him to go through one of the doors." When he said the word 'persuade', he smiled secretively at me. He knew what I was like. Not that his method of mediating (now that he had agreed to help spirits, rather than take advantage of them) differed much from my own. But Paul had a way with words that I sure didn't. He always said all the wrong things in the right way, ensuring that everyone did what he said. It was firghtening, actually. Failing that, however, and he started to kick butt. All of those Tae Kwon Do lessons that he told me his parents sent him to obviously did the trick. And the twenty-odd pound of muscle that heposessed didn't hinder him in any way, either. I sure wouldn't like to be on the receiving end of one of his punches, let me tell you. Which scared me quite a bit. I mean, Paul has all this physical power, yet Jesse still managed to beat him to a bloody pulp andhold his head underwater once upon a time. I'd choose receiving a punch from Paul over Jesse any day.

"Rather you than me," I replied, starting the engine. "Now, unless you want a ride to the hospital, I'd get out right now." But he wasn't budging.

"Sure, I'll take that ride...my parents dropped me off, so it's not like I've got a means of going elsewhere." He buckled up and smiled at me again. Of course, his parents, and little brother, were visiting this weekend. They had felt bad about not seeing him at Christmas, so took a few days off from work to visit him and check up on his grandfather. If Paul was correct, they would be staying until Tuesday. Poor little Jack was going to be disappointed. He had called me shortly after the incident with the time travelling and promised me that he would come and see Jesse and I sometime soon, now that Jesse had a body and we were an item.So he would probably be upset once he found out about Jesse's little accident.

The more I thought about Jack Slater, the more I realised how odd things had become. Jesse had a body, CeeCee and Adam knew about my gift and were willing to help where they could,Father Dominic was actually helping me with an exorcism, I had two ghosts willing to kick butt for me, and four mediators were congregating in the Carmel area. It was as if everything was building up to one climactic event. If this were true, then mine and Jesse's twenty-four hours of bliss were simply the calm before the storm.

I couldn't help but notice, as I observed Paul from behind the tinted lenses of myDonna Karan's, that there was a major fact that I had overlooked. I couldn't place my finger on it, but I knew that it was right under my nose. Damn it!

* * *

**AN - OMG...that chpter was fairly Jesse-less. But I'll make up for it. Have you realised what Suze is overlooking? And will I ever write a chapter longer than 3000 words? I can't say how close to the end this is, because I'm not aiming for a certain chapter number. What I do hope is that I can get to the magic 100 (in regards to reviews, that is) before it ends. It's just a little button...I need to know what to improve on and what to do more/cut down on. But thank you to all my lovely reviwers...and those who read but don't review...I know you're out there! I check my stats every so often.**

**Disclaimer - Meg Cabot owns all.**


	14. Jesse Has A Plan

**Only The Good**

_And how far have we come, too far to throw away the past  
Will you be there waiting for me  
I have to ask what we are, if I ask today it just won't last  
So I'll be here waiting for you  
**Trapt - Made Of Glass**_

Once again, I sat by Jesse's bed, holding his hand. He was awake, of course, and squeezed my hand in return. His grip was more powerful than it had been last time. I guess this proved that he was indeed recovering at an alarming rate, something which confused him as much as it confused me.

He tore his gaze away from me and looked out of the small window at Paul, currently shouting into a payphone. I had persuaded the nefarious Mr. Slater to call his parents, and perhaps talk them into bringing Jack over. I honestly have no idea why; I was willing to use any excuse to get rid of him so that I could spend some 'alone time' with Jesse. Not that he was up for doing much other than talking. Which was alright, I guess. I mean, I waited sixteen years to kiss this guy, I'm sure I can wait a few days. But it was easier said than done. Back then, I had no idea how his lips felt brushing against mine, or how cherished I felt when they did. Coupled with that, and the fact that I had almost lost him, it's a miracle I haven't tried anything yet.

A mischevious smile played across those beautiful lips as I stared at then. Rude, I know, but I couldn't help it.

"What are you thinking_ querida_?" He asked, the smile broadening as he spoke. My eyes darted up to meet his. Umm...Like I was going to say. But the more I gazed into those dark pools, the weaker I seemed to become.

"I was...um...just...er..." He laughed, cutting me off before I could embarass myself further. Good thing, too.

"I know what you are thinking," he purred, lifting his free hand up to tuck a fallen strand of hair behind my ear. Once he was done, he touched my cheek with the back of his fingers like he had done all those months ago when _I_ lay in hospital, then cupped my face and pulled me towards him. Considering I was practically sitting on his bed, there wasn't much distance between us. But it seemed like hours before his lips were on mine. And for the second time today, I lost my mind. And not in a crazy way, either. All but the most primitive parts of my brain seemed to just evaporate as his lips gently caressed my own, his hand moving back into my hair. Now, I mentioned that the primitive parts of my conciousness were controlling me, right? Which is why I let go of his hand and placed mine on his shoulder, slowly running it up and down his bare tricep, causing him to shift uncomfortably on his bed. I liked it. Well, at least the cavewoman part of me did. So, I moved my fingers round to his bicep and then back up to his shoulder. When it got there, I slowly sent it down his chest. He moaned slightly, and I felt the corners of my mouth twitch, but I wasn't going to smile and ruin the moment. As my hand snuck further down, I felt somethig on his chest. Material. Thinking it was th eblanket, I didn't hesitate to move further down, but he grunted in pain and pulled back. Oh my God, it was his bandages! I've hurt him.

"It's alright," he assured me, seeing the worried expression on my face. "It's still a little tender." But it didn't make me feel any better. I was a lousy girlfriend. Here he was, lying in a _hospital_ bed and all I could think about was making out with him. Not only that, but when we do kiss, I end up hurting him. He was so not coming home early now. I was thinking about persuading my mom to let me stay with him until he was better, to look after him. But like hell was I going to do that now. He'd be dead by the end of the week.

"I'm sorry," I apologised, feeling (and most likely looking) sheepish. Jesse sat back, resting himself against his pillows and smiled at me again. I swear he was about to say something when Paul burst in, mini-Slater in tow. Great, just what we needed.

"Suze!" Jack exclaimed, running up to me and forcing me to hug him.

"Hey, kiddo." Jack tore his eyes away from me and looked at Jesse, all bandaged and helpless. I wish that I could describe the look that adorned Jack's face as he took in the living Jesse. His eyes travelled from Jesse's thick, crisp, black hair all the way down to his bandaged chest, where he disappeared beneath the blanket.

"You're alive!" He exclaimed, all but jumping up and down. "But...what happened?" Jesse smiled at the child, obviously having a lot more patience than I would have had.

"I'll tell you later," Paul told him, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder and pulling him back a foot or so. I threw Paul a quick look to show him that I was grateful for this before turning my attention back to Jesse. Who, by the way, wasn't smiling anymore. At least not the way he was smiling before, because, of course, that smile was only for me. Paul forced a nervous smile, unsure of what to say around his former arch-enemy, as usual. I mean, what do you say to a guy you almost wiped from existance? "How are you doing?" apparantly.

"I'm better," Jesse announced. To say that the silence that followed was uncomfortable was to make an understatement ofmassive proportions. It was like saying that the Titanic or the Poseidon ran into 'a spot of bother'. Thankfully, Jack broke it after a minute or two, demanding to know when Jesse would be released, etc. Even thedoctors didn't know that. At first, they assumed that he would be hospitalised for at least a week or two, given the seriousness of his injuries. But now they were saying that if things continued the way they were currently going, then he should be out of hereby Wednesday at the latest. Monday, if he had someone to take care of him at home.

"Aww," Jack complained. "I wanted you to take me to the beach, Suze!" I smiled. Carmel wasn't a safe place for mediators at the moment, even miniature ones.

"I'll take you," Paul offered, finally working up the courage to talk. But all Jack did was twist his face and insist that it wouldn't be the same. Having spent the past few minutes observing the brothers, I turned my attention to Jesse. Only to see that he was no longer gazing longingly at me (which was, you know, fine...) but was insteadd eyeing Paul with what could only be concern. But I am sure that Ijust imagined it. I mean, Jesse...concerned for Paul Slater? Yeah, I'm sure the devil is digging out his long John's as we speak.

* * *

**Jesse's POV**

Susannah told me that Paul Slater had repented. I did not believe her at first, although I was willing to play along for her sake. But over the past week or so, I have started to see a side to Slater that I never knew existed. He was helping Susannah with the Layla/Stanley situation, although it did not affect him in any way. And if what she has told me is true, he has been looking out for her, too.

Susannah came to me yesterday, asking questions about demonic posession, and it roused my suspicions. So, a quick phone call later, and I had managed to gather all of the information about this Harold Raimes and all the deaths that he was no doubt responsible for. I had no doubts that Harold had posessed these people. They had all displayed the same destructively obsessive behaviour that had consumed Harold in his life. It was all orchestrated, like some kind of sick ritual; he would posess the obsessive man then murder the innocent woman, believing that she would break his heart, like his had been broken all those years ago. Layla was murdered purely for revenge purposes; she had exorcised him. But now she had accidentally led him to Susannah. It was all starting to make sense now. All the pieces of the puzzle were slowly slotting together. But only one remained. The obsessive man whom Harold would posess in order to murder Susannah. I cannot believe that I have been so blind. I should have realised back then, but it was just beginning to dawn on me now. Now, as I watched him joking with his brother. Paul Slater. He was the missing piece. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. After all, he was drawn into all of this. But in a way it was all his own fault. If only he had backed off when he had a chance. If only he had never moved to Carmel. True, I would still be dead, but it was a price worth paying to ensure Susannah's safety. But now I was useless. She would die by his hands, and there was nothing that I could do to prevent it. I was healing twice as fast as I should be (which astounded me. There was no logical explanation for it), but it wasn't fast enough.

But it would have to be. I knew what I had to do. If only my damn ribs didn't hurt so much.

* * *

**Suze's POV**

I had not managed to get a single word out of Jesse as we left him. His eyes were trying so desperately to tell me something, but I am so useless that I didn't understand what it was.

Jack had attempted to talk me into going back tohis grandfather's establishment so that he could show me how well he could swim now. But I politely declined. After all, I had to be back home for lunch.

"Pass the bread," Brad demanded, reaching halfway across the table. I curled my lip in disgust and pushed the plate across to him. He thanked me, which satisfied Andy. What Andy didn't see, however, was the half-chewed green stuff that Dopey kindly showed me as he spoke. I clapped quietly as he choked it down.

"So, how is Jesse?" Andy asked, trying to get a conversation going. I swallowed my heavily-buttered bread before replying. At least I had some manners.

"He's...um...doing great," I replied, throwing in a smile for free. "The nurse told me that he will probably be released in a few days." My smile faded as I remembered Paul's words. If he was right, then Harold could strike at any time. Sure, I wanted Jesse home, but I also wanted to be alive for the occasion. It would be a major role-reversal for him to casually walk into my room to find a ghostly Susannah sitting on my window seat.

"And how are you?" I realised then that Andy had lay down his knife and fork, even though he had not yet finished eating. I watched curiously as my mother did the same. I didn't reply. Instead, I dropped my gaze to my hands and began to rub my ring. _I'm terrified, mom! Terrified because this phsychotic ghost is going to murder me sometime in the next few days. Yeah, the same psychotic ghost who threw my boyfriend out of my bedroom window. _You can see how that wouldn't exactle go down too well. So I assured them that I was fine and continued to eat.

"Oh, well that's good," my mom said, smiling in my general direction. "Because Dr. Slater called just before you arrived. She said how nice it would be to see you again, and invited you over for a late supper." Great. I would have liked nothing more than to refuse this generous offer, but the expression on my mom's face persuaded me not to. I knew that she loved it when I got invited to anything. She was ecstatic when she found out that I had finally got myself a boyfriend. She wasn't to thrilled when she saw how old he was, though. I couldn't destroy her happiness by declaring that I would rather spend a night curled up in bed feeling sorry for myself than with a friend and his family.

"Sure, I'll go," I replied finally, and, might I add, very reluctantly. After all, Paul had helped me a lot lately. Consider this my way of saying thank you to him. What I didn't know then was that he had a lot more than just 'your welcome' to say to me. I was about to find out what that crucial detail that Ihad beenmissing was.

* * *

**AN - Yeah, another short one. And I apologise for the lack of Jesse again (although this wasn't as bad as last chapter), but I've got plans for him. Expect more of him to come. Plus, I've been pouring all my Jesse/Suze drive into a one-shot I've been working on to ease my writers block. But whatever...enjoy :).**


	15. An Evening With The Slaters

**Only The Good**

_"The shaft of the arrow had been feathered with one of the eagle's own plumes. We often give our enemies the means of our own destruction." - **Aesop**_

I really wasn't happy about spending a night with the Slaters. Not when I could spend the night with my boyfriend. Alright, he was in hospital, and would most probably be asleep, but he couldn't wear a t-shirt, you see. Not with the bandages needing to be changed every day. Now that view, my friends, was a lot better than the view I would have at chez Slater. Even with all its windows, and the view overlooking the sea. I would take ward seventeen over that any day.

But I went just to please my mother. She loved that fact that I now had a social life, not to mention super-rich friends. As she said my life is "progressing" although I am a "late bloomer". I don't know about 'bloomer', but I'll sure be 'late' soon, unless I could find a way to stop Harold. I had, of course, managed to acquire a picture of the dear Mr. Raimes, courtesy of an old edition of the Carmel Pine Cone, but the rectory would be out of service until tomorrow. Which was exactly why I had a small hammer, screwdriver, kitchen knife and nasal spray (not mace, but it would have to do) shoved into my spacious Dior bag. And a few candles and a small tub of chicken blood, just in case I had to perform an emergency exorcism. Needless to say, my reluctance to relinquish my bag caused Dr. Slater (female) to laugh. I explained that it contained my phone, which my mother would call in case of an emergency.

"Thanks for coming, Suze," Paul said as I sat beside him on the couch.

"No big," I replied, still clutching my bag. The leather had become all moist, but I didn't care.

"No, seriously. It's great to know that we're still cool. You know, after..." He nodded, but I knew what he meant. But seriously, if it wasn't for him, Jesse would still be dead. I owed him a lot. I just hoped that he would never realise this. So, I told him again that it was nothing and turned my attention to the plasma screen TV which hung on the wall opposite the couch. An old episode of The Simpsons was playing, and Jack was stretched out on the floor, gazing up at it, occasionally laughing.

"So, Susan," Nancy Slater said. I wish she would get my name right. "How have you been?" I swallowed the lump that had appeared in my throat. _Oh, I've been fine, ever since your son gave up his reign of terror over me. But I guess the psychological damage will take a while to heal._

"Oh, I'm fine, thank you. And you?" I replied. Nancy then began to tell me about everything that Jack had been doing since last summer. Apparantly he was much more confident now, even after Paul had moved to Carmel. She thanked me a few more times for what I had done for him before her husband walked in, greeting us all.

I felt so out of place. If this was my family, the kid on the floor would have been Dopey, surrounded by popcorn and soda and my mom would be jabbering on about her latest story. Then, Andy would come in, yelling at us all to eat our lunch. Paul's family were...different. Not in a bad way, mind you. I don't want to sound like I'm critisizing them or anything. But the atmosphere was...tense. To say the least. And something didn't feel right. For instance, the shiver that worked its way up and down my spine, coiling around every vertebra until I was paralysed with fear. But why?

Paul dragged me up to his bedroom after a whil. And no, not for _that_ reason. He wanted to show me the papers that he had been reading. Shifting papers.

"See here," he pointed out, placing his finger about half way down the mouldy page. "It talks of unidentified powers. Not just for shifters, though, for mediators too. Apparantly there was a lot that my grandfather was looking into at the time he decided to start acting crazy." I read the passage, not understaning a word. Of course...it was in Latin. Since when did Paul know Latin?

"So, what does that mean?" I asked, feeling dumb for doing so.

"It means that we...including the good father and Jesse, are maybe capable of so much more. You see, it also states that our powers are controlled subconciously. Well, most of them anyway. If we want something bad enough, it might just happen. I think this would explain why Jesseis healing so fast." I scoffed.

"But when Diego threw me off the porch roof last year, I couldn't care less whether I lived or died!" I told him. Paul just smiled back at me.

"Conciously, yes," he said, still smiling. "But subconciously, you wanted to live to see Jesse one more time. It was your determination that kept you alive." I could think of no reply to that.

"So...what other powers," I asked, "do we possess?" Paul shrugged and slid the delicate page back into the box before kicking it under his bed.

"I don't know. I doubt that even Dr. Slaski knows." Great. So I could have some magnificent power that could banish Harold toShadowland for good, but I couldn't use it because I didn't know what it was.

"Trial and error," Paul suggested, standing up. "That's the only way we will be able to find out."

* * *

Nancy Slater sure knows how to cook. According to Rick, she would never hire a cook back home because it was hr favourite hobby. Whatever, I couldn't stand cooking. Thank God Jesse was good at it. Otherwise I would probably starve to death once I moved out. Oh yeah,talking about Jesse, the Slaters happened to notice my ring. My engagement ring. 

"So, when is the big day?" Rick asked, causing everyone at the table to fall silent.

"We, um...haven't decided yet. Probably not until after I graduate." I couldn't help but wondering if an engagement was a big enough commitment for Jesse. For us to...you know...I mean. Because I don't think that I could wait another year and a half. And, judging by his actions at the beach the other day, neither could Jesse. I really shouldn't have been thinking these thoughts at the dinner table, let alone in front of Paul Slater, whom I am quite sure has had similar thoughts about me.

I snapped myself out of my thoughts just in time to see the whole table staring at me. What? Did I have food dribbling down my chin? Obviously not, because Nancy Slater repeated her question.

"Who is your fiance?" I choked down a piece of steak and slowly swallowing it, allowing myself some time to glance over at Paul. He seemed to engrossed in rearranging his potatoes to be paying much attention to his mother.

"Um...his name is Jesse," I told her, not taking my eyes off Paul. "He goes to the Academy." No point in lying. The meal continued in this vein; more awkward questions being thrown my way. I was glad when it was over.

Everybody sat down in the living room, drinks in hand and I ran up to the bathroom, almost mowing Paul (who was returning from his room) down in the process. But he didn't even seem to notice me.

The main bathroom in theGrandpa Slater'shousehold was extravagant. White tiles adorned every surface, and a vase full of red roses sat by the sink. White was so the wrong colour for a bathroom in a house where boys lived. Believe me, I should know. But the tiles sparkled as they reflected the light from the miniature chandelier above my head. The mirror stretched almost all the way across one wall. I somehow managed to tear myself away from the beauty of the white room and reapply my make-up. Hey, I was planning on stopping by the hospital on my way home, and I always wanted to look my best for Jesse.

I only spent ten minutes in the bathroom, but when I emerged, I thought for a moment that everyone had gone to bed. Because I could no longer hear laughter coming from downstairs. All I heard was the low rumble of the Television. Maybe they were engrossed in the program, I suggested to myself.

Now, the main bathroom was directly opposite Paul's room, so I was afforded a glimpse inside everytime that I emerged. But I never saw anything, because his door was always closed. But not this time. And to tell you the turht, I wished that it had been. Closed, I mean. Because it looked as though a bomb had went off inside. Seriously, Paul's belongings were strewn all over the floor, his closet door had snapped clean in two. This was the second sign that something was wrong. Terrified, I ran downstairs, shouting for the Slaters. There was o reply, yet again, and I saw why when I entered the living room. Rick and Nancy were fast asleep (yes, they were asleep; I could see their chests rising and falling) and Jack was nowhere to be found.

"Yes, it works fast, doesn't it?" I spun around, to see Paul standing in the doorway, reading the back of a small packet.

"You drugged them!" I was shocked. I bent down to check on his parents, but they seemed alright.

"Couldn't let them get in the way now, could I?" He sneered, tossing the packet aside. He took a few steps towards me before I dug in my bag and produced the kitchen knife I had 'borrowed' on my way out of my own house. Paul just looked at it and laughed, then lifted his eyes so that they met my own. I screamed, almost dropping the knife. His eyes. They were...wrong. They were white, pure white. I could see his pupil's very vaguely, and the outline of where his irises should be. Then it hit me.

"Harold!" I couldn't conceal the terror in my voice, which just caused him to laugh, via Paul.

"Took you long enough, didn't it?" He laughed, his eyes falling to the blade once again. I felt the plastic handle shake in my hands. Oh crap. He may have posesseda human, but he sill had the kinetic powers of a member of the dead. But he wasn't going to get my weapon.

Without even thinking of the consequences, I lifted the knife and slashed at him, meaning only to ward him off. But I cut him. Right across the chest. The blood hit my hands as I brought them down, the shock causing me to relinquish my grip on the weapon. He screamed in pain as his hand reached up to his torn t-shirt. He obviously didn't remember what pain felt like.

"You stupid bitch!" He screamed, coming at me. But I was more agile than he was, so I was able to duck under his outstrectched arm and run upstairs. Yeah, so I was heading to Dr. Slaski's room, but I didn't know what else to do. But I didn't make it. I found Jack, emerging from one of the guest rooms.

"Suze?" He asked, obviously confused. "What's wrong...Oh my God! Is that blood?" I clasped a hand over his mouth.

"Jack, you have to get out of here," I told him. "Paul has been posessed. You have to get out of here and call someone. The police if you have to. That ought to scare him off for now." Jack opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it.

"There's a phone in my room. You can call Father Dominic!" He grabbed one of my bloody hands and dragged me back into his room and over to a small green phone on his bedside table.

Father Dom answered after two rings.

"Hello?" It felt so good to hear his voice.

"Father D!" I half-screamed down the phone. "Harold has got to Paul...he's posessed him, and now he's drugged the Slaters and he's trying to kill me. You have to help me, Jack's here, too!" Alright, so I was getting hysterical. But can you blame me?

"Ssh, Susannah," Father D replied, in a voice that was way too calm. "The exorcism can obviously not wait a moment longer. I will get rid of the monsignor and set everything up. You must bring Paul here. The sooner, the better, Susannah." Bring Paul there? Was he insane! I couldn't get within a foot of the guy without him lunging at me. I am so sure that getting him into the back of a car will be easy. Or even do-able. If that's a word.

"But Father, I-!" I didn't have a chance to protest, because the line suddenly went dead. Shit, he's cut the pnoe lines. I silently cursed the fact that I had left my cell phone charging on my window seat.

It wasn't long before I heard footsteps outside of the room. Pressing a finger to my lips, I silently told Jack to hide beneath the bed. The footsteps passed and I heard them disappear down the hall. I took the opportunity to run out of the room and sprint down the stairs. I could hear Paul/Harold's footsteps thundering behind me, but all I needed to do was get outside. I was almost there. The livning room...Slaters still sleeping...the kitchen. I saw the door and reached out for the handle. I had barely opened the door a few inches when a hand slammed against it, closing it once more.

If his posessed appearance had creeped me out before, it was nothing compared to now. The gash on his chest wasn't deep, but it was still deep enough to cause blood to seep through his white t-shirt, adding more chill to his un-dead appearance.

"Going somewhere?" He didn't even give me time to reply before his fist slammed into my face. Ouch. And that was an understatement. I was blinded with the pain, and felt myself slam into the refrigerator door. With the force that I hit it, I wouldn't be surprised if the brand name had been imprinted into my forehead. I slid down it's cold, smooth surface, feeling blood trickle down from my eyebrow. I feebly lifteda hand to wipe it away before it impaired my vision. Then I felt a hand roughly turn me over, and a weight bress down on my abdomen as he pinned me to the ground. Damn, he was strong. Way stronger than me. I didn't have time to think about how _much_ stronger than me he was, beacause I then felt a meteorite slam into my face. Really...that's the only explanation I could think of. It happened again and again, and again, each blow causing a fresh wave of pain to consume me. I could feel myself losing conciousness, slipping away. I couldn't even feel the pain anymore. Is this what dying feels like? I could no longer feel his fist connecting with my face, but I could still hear the sickening thud that it made. Then, slowly but surely, my senses began to return. I wiped the blood from my eyes and attempted to sit up. Then I realised that the sickening thuds were the result of someone's fist slamming into _his_ face. Jesse's fist to be exact.

"Jesse?" I was sure that I was imagining things. But then, Jesse ceased his assault and turned to look at me, and expression of intense shock gripping his beautiful features. Paul/Harold groaned beneath him, and his fist slammed into his face one last time before Paul/Harold felt silently back, out cold. Jesse then scrambled over to he, holding my head gently in his hands.

"_Querida_," He gasped, taking in my injuries. I guess I didn't look too good just then. He pulled me into his arms, kissing the top of my head. And suddenly I felt so much better. Because I was in his arms, and nothing bad could happen to me there. I enjoyed the warmth of his embrace, and the soothing Spanish words that he whispered into my blood-soaked hair. I recognised the words '_querida_' and '_dios_', nothing more. But it wasn't the words that mattered. It was the way they were spoken, which was in the most gentle voice I have ever heard him use. Which was probably why I broke down right there, sobbing like a little girl into his shoulder. I dared to open my eyes for a moment, an saw the battered form of Paul Slater slumped against the wall.

"What are we going to do about him?" I asked. Unfortunately, Jesse let go of me to turn towards the other man. "We need to take him to the rectory. To exorcise Harold. I can't let him kill Paul."

Jesse turned back to me, and I realised for the first time that he had tears in his eyes. He had been crying over me. This set me off again, but this time they were silent tears.

The night was far from over. And I had a feeling that things were going to get out of control. Violently so.

* * *

**AN - Dun, dun, DUN!. So, Jesse fled the hospital to save Suze. But wouldn't things have been safer for him ther? I mean, he's not even fully healed yet! To tell you the truth, I think he's too angry to feel much pain now. The incredible hulk has nothing on Jesse. One question...will Paul survive the exorcism? Especially with the wounds that Jesse (and Suze!) inflicted on him. Stanley and Layla will be making a comeback. And maybe another ghost that we all know and love...I had an idea, but I'm not sure if I'm going to use it or not.**

**Disclaimer - I own nothing...except the story. And Harold, but he's still up for sale.**


	16. The Vanishing Body

**Only The Good**

_What's the rift that twists  
within this furthest mystery?  
I would gladly bet my life upon it.  
At the cost of love your ray of light  
Will fizzle out without hope._

_**A.F.I. - Miss Murder**_

With great effort, Jesse and I managed to drag Paul to the car and into the back seat. Which was quite an acheivement given that we were both injured and Paul weighed at least one hundred and eighty pounds. I couldn't help but feel sorry for Paul. When he woke up, he was going to be in agony. And shock...Jesse worked him over real good.

I tried to open the passenger door of Jesse's car, but for some reason my hand would not lift the damn handle up. Seriously, it was impossible. So Jesse had to open it for me, not laughing as I thought he would. I was way weaker than I thought I was. Jesse even had to help with my seatbelt.

"Hey," I said once we were both seated, and Jesse was attempting to start the engine. "Shouldn't you be in the hospital?"

"No," he replied, calmly. "I should be right here, stopping this maniac from killing you."

I couldn't help but laugh. This was pure Jesse; always thinking about others before himself. Now that he had a life to lose, he seemed perfectly content risking it to save me. I hadn't even noticed that we had already begun to move. I turned to observe our captive to find that he was still out cold. Was Paul still in there somewhere? Was he aware of what Harold was doing? Then, I had an idea. Jesse wouldn't like it, but whatever.

"I'll be back in a moment," I told him, closing my eyes and picturing _that_ place before he had time to protest. I was there, as usual, in a matter of seconds. And I was not alone.

About ten feet away from me, the fog twirling all around him, was Paul Slater.

"Suze?"

"Paul!" I ran to him, I couldn't help it. It was great to know that he was alright. After all, it was my fault that he had been dragged into all this.

"Suze, that guy's taken over my body, you gotta watch out," he told me urgently, obviously unaware of what Harold had been using his body for. "My family, are they alright?"

"Yes," I assured him. "He drugged your parents, so they're out cold, but Jack's there, looking after them until they regain conciousness."

"What else did he do?" Paul asked, a worried expression dawning on his face.

"Um..." I automatically lifted a hand to my face, my fingers touching the smooth, dry skin on my cheek. My injuries won't show in my current spectral form. "Nothing." Yeah, so I was lying through my teeth, but what else could I have said? _"Oh, you just beat me to a bloody pulp, but it's all cool". _I didn't want to worry him any more than I had to.

"Oh, great," he said, relief washing over him. "I tried to fight him, I swear. But he threw me through my closet door and then...you know. Well...at least everyone's alright. Hey, where are you now?"

"I...um. Jesse and I are taking you to the Mission. To try and exorcise Harold before he can do any more damage." Actually, for all I knew, we could already be there and Jesse could be desperately trying to wake me, all to no avail. At least he knew where I was.

"Jesse? But I thought he was in the hospital!" Hah, he actually looked scared. Well, the guy did beat him up once before. Tried to drown him, in fact. The guys are natural enemies. Even when I went back to 1850, and Jesse didn't have a clue who Paul was, he still hated the guy.

"Um..." I couldn't think of anything intelligent to say. "He was, but...he got out to come and...help me. Oh, and by the way. When you wake up, you might...hurt a bit." I rushed the latter part, not looking down at my feet, which were obscured by the tendrils of fog that were slowly wrapping around my ankles before creeping stealthily up my shins.

"Hurt a-WHAT! What did he do to me?" He was furious, and began to glow more brightly. If there were any objects around, I was pretty sure they would have been flying around right then.

"Actually, it was both of us," I told him, truthfully. But right now, I didn't want to go into the bit where he'd nearly murdered me. "But my contribution was purely accidental! I obviously have screwed-up depth perception."

Paul closed his eyes, obviously counting to ten in his head. He probably didn't have a clue what I was talking about. I was obviously referring to his well defined, although now sliced, pectoral muscles.

"Alright, but whatever you do, please try to get my body back in one piece!" He opened his eyes again, those piercing blue orbs surveying my face. "Youbetter get back now."

"Yeah, you're right," I replied, closing my eyes. "And Paul...hang in there."

When I opened my eyes, we were at the Mission. Father Dominic was helping Jesse drag Paul's body out of the back seat, whilst giving him some sort of lecture. Obviously about the injuries he had inflicted on "poor Mr. Slater" and the true purpose of a hospital. I found that I could now undo my seatbelt on my own, and even open the car door without Jesse's help. I couldn't even feel my post-shifting headache because of the numb feeling that had currently taken over.

I managed to stumble over to Father Dominic, and help him pull Paul's legs out of the car. Did I mention that Paul is really tall? (excuse the rhyming)

"Thank you, Sus- My dear child, what happened to you?" I looked at Jesse, who wore a grim expression. Why can't people just be straight with me about how I look? Jesse has no problem telling me how beautiful I am, so why can't he say that I look like shit when I do? Men, I'll never understand them.

"Um...I had a run-in with," and I nodded my head in Paul's direction. Father Dominic crossed himself, so I must have looked pretty bad. What if the fridge's brand name _was_ imprinted onto my forehead? Because Dr. Slaski owned a _Smeg_ fridge. It would bring a whole new meaning to 'smeghead'. "But I'm fine, I swear." Liar.

* * *

It didn't take long for Father D to carry Paul's body into the rectory, and place in the centre of the candles he had set up. However, that was the only part of the exorcism that was properly set up, so Father D had to run off and gather the rest of the equipment, leaving Jesse and myself alone in the chapel. 

We were currently sat near the entrance, backs against the wall. I couldn't bear the sight of Paul's battered body, so I wanted to stay as far away from it as possible.

A smile silently crept across my lips when Jesse placed an arm around me. I was on his un-damaged side, so I was able to lean into him. It was all I could to to stop myself falling asleep in his arms. I can honestly say that I have never felt so weak in my entire life. Apart from that time I was nearly murdered by the RLS Angels.

"You shouldn't have come," I told him, my eyes firmly shut. My voice sounded as weak as I felt. It was strained and barely audible, yet it echoed slightly round ine empty chapel."You haven't fully recovered yet." I felt his thumb caressing the bare skin of my arm as he tried to think of a sensible reply.

"I went to your house," he told me, his voice signalling that he was as exhausted as I was. "And when your mother told me that you were with the Slaters, I panicked. I drove over there right away, and when I got there...I was furious when I saw him. He was...killing you. I couldn't let him. If you hadn't spoke my name, I think I would have killed him." He brought his other arm around and placed it on my waist.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I should have stayed at home. I shouldn't have went." He gently kissed my forehead, and I could feel him smiling as he did so.

"I'm glad you did, _querida_," he said. "If it had happened any other time, I might not have been there." I lifted my head up so that I could look into his eyes. I have never seen Jesse so worried before. Not since that time in Shadowland. It was a good feeling, knowing that someone loved and cared about me so much. It was a feeling I had never felt until I met Jesse. His love for me was unconditional. No matter how hard I pushed him away, or how rude I was to him, he remained by my side. I guess that was one of the reasons I fell in love with him. I was snapped from my thoughts by the feel of his lips on mine. It was a gentle kiss. No tongues, and it barely lasted more than a few seconds. But it was a perfect kiss. Every one with Jesse was.

"Nothing is going to happen to you," he whispered. "Not while I'm here." I tried to hold back the tear that silently slid down my cheek, I really did. Because, loathe as I was to admit it, there wasn't much that Jesse could do to protect me at the moment. Not in his current state. His previous assault on Paul/Harold had obviously drained him of what little energy he had.

It was while I was thinking about al of this, that Stanley and Layla materialised infront of us, looking embarassed when their eyes fell on us.

"Oh, we're sorry," Layla replied. "We didn't mean to-"

"Never mind," I told her, smiling. I attempted to pull myself up, but Stanley held out a hand and pulled me gently to my feet, doing the same with Jesse once I was upright.

"You two look pretty beat up," he told us. Yeah, like we didn't already know that. "We're truly sorry for getting you two caught up in all of this." I assured him that it was no problem, and that I had been in worse situations before. Which was a complete lie, with the exception of the Shadowland deal. But there was no point in worrying people.

"If we had known that there was a powerful spirit behind all of this, we never would have asked for your help," Layla spoke, her voice as soft as mine had been. Althought obviously for a diferent reason. "We only found out about Harold the day you spoke to Kurt. I honestly thought that it was Kurt who had killed me."

"Technically it was," Stanley told her, grimacing. "If he wasn't so obsessed with you, none of this would have happened." Layla glared at her ghostly lover and elbowed him.

"You, shut up!" I laughed. I guess that even in death, couples argue.

"So, where is the boy he posessed?" Stanley asked, looking around the chapel. I rolled my eyes. Aren't ghosts supposed to have 20/20 vision? I pointed to the ring of candles.

"Right in front of your eyes," I told him, not even bothering to look. Like I said before, I had no desire to see Paul's body all beaten up like that. While I was used to the sight of blood, I still didn;t like seeing itcome frommy friends. And that's what Paul was now, a friend.

I knew that something was wrong when Jesse's hands gripped my shoulders posessively.Still smiling, I turned to look at the circle of candles. And that was what I saw. Candles. No Paul. It was like a scene from a horror movie, I swear. You know, when the hero kills the bad guy then when he looks back, the body is gone. That was probably why I screamed. As I did so, Jesse's grip tightened and Father Dominic came rushing throught the entrance beside us.

"What is the matter?" He asked, almost dropping the box he was holding. But we were too shocked to answer. Instead, Father Dominic followed our gaze and this time, he did drop the box. "He's gone." Round of applause for Father Dominic.

"But, I don't...we didn't hear him," My voice had taken on that ever-so-attractive squeaky quality. And suddenly I was freezing. The heat from Jesse's hands (which still held on to me) did nothing to dispel the sudden chill that had come over me.

"We have to find him," Jesse said. Well, it went without saying.

* * *

The initial plan was to split up and look for Harold/Paul, but Jesse refused to leave me alone. Especially in my "current condition". Yeah, like his was much better. So, Father Dominic continued to set up the exorcism and Stanley and Layla split up while Jesse and I remained together. 

The Mission had always been eerie at night, but tonight it seemed terrifying. Because this time, I knew that some one was hiding somewhere, waiting for me to make the wrong turn. Homicidal ghosts, I could deal with. It was humans that I didn't like dealing with. I could, I guess, shift as soon as Harold grabbed me, but I didn't know what effect that would have on Paul, or his body. For all I know, his body could die.

This was ll I could think about as Jesse and I silently crept past Mr. Walden's classroom. Occasionally, a shadow would dart across one of the many walls, scaring the crap out of me, but it always turned out to be a bird. Me and my damn nerves.

Jesse always made me walk infront of him. I guessed that it was so Harold couldn't sneak up behind me. But I didn't have a clue where to go. I slowly pushed the door to Mr. Walden's classroom open and Jesse stepped inside, his hand on my arm. A quick survey of the empty classroom ruled it out of the possible places Harold could be hiding. He would probably be recovering somewhere. But that didn't bother me. I was all for kicking a homicidal ghost when he'sdown.

Closing the doorbehind us, we slowly made our way to Sister Ernestine's classroom as silently as we could. There were people who lived in the rectory, and there was no point in alerting them to our prescence. Sister Ernestine's classroom was slightly larger than Mr. Walden's. Most of the classes were the same size, but I guess the Vice Principal always got the bigger classroom. On the walls were various religious drawings done by the younger pupils. Sister Ernestine never struck me as the pin-children's-drawings-to-the-wall type. Maybe the pin-the-_children_-to-the-wall type.

Her desk was organised, unlike the other teacher's. Even Father Dominic's desk had a certain level of disorganisation to it. But all the papers on this desk were piled neatly in one corner, a stone paper weight placed dead-centre on top of them . A pot filled with black and blue pens, along with a few pencils and rulers stood beside these papers. Other than that, the desk was empty. A scraping from the opposite side of the room startled me, and I looked up, hammer in hand (I had remembered the arsenal of pathetic weapons in my bag), to see Jesse cursing in Spanish and rubbing his leg. Hah! I guess it was dark inside the Mission classrooms at night. The only light came from a window just beside the desk that Jesse had walked into. The moonlight pooled into the classroom, making Jesse look ghostly once again. He smiled at me as I laughed at him. I guess this room was clear. I looked at Jesse one last time before I turned to leave, and saw something move behind him.

"Jesse!" I screamed. He tore his eyes away from me and spun around just in time to dodge a blow from a chair. Paul's posessed form fell forward onto the desk Jesse had knocked. Jesse wasted no time in grabbing Harold by the shirtfront and hitting him once again. I could see by the moonlight that shone on Paul's face that Harold had cleaned himself up a bit. I saw that there were two cuts; one on his hairline and the other just above his left eye. He also had a fat lip, but that wasn't really an injury. Other than a few unsightly bruises, he looked almost normal. And he had obviously recovered, if the force he sent a fist flying in Jesse's direction was anything to go by. Jesse tried to dodge the shot, but Paul's fist collided with his jaw, sending him into the next table. He recovered quickly and managed to grab Harold before he had a chance to do anything else.

"Susannah, run!" Jesse shouted. It was the logical thing to do, and by all rights I should have done it when I first saw Harold. but part of me didn't want to leave Jesse alone with that monster. And the other part of me was frozen with fear. This time, I did run, but not before calling to Stanley and Layla. As I darted out the door, I saw their spectral glow behind me. They entered the classroom to help Jesse and I ran towards the chapel. Thank God I wore my Skechers tonight, that's all I can say. The sound of the struggle behind me slowly died down as I drew closer to Father Dominic and his circle of candles. Everything was set up now, and the good Father waited patiently by the circle.

"They...will just be...a moment." I told him, attempting to catch my breath. Father Dominic was about to reply when the door to the chapel was flung open, and Paul's struggling form was dragged up the aisle by an unseen force. Behind him came Jesse, bleeding from a minor wound in his head, supported by Layla. But they were not what drew my attention. No, it was Stanley. A look of pure hatred and intense rage on his face, he glared at Paul's flailing form. I guess it was his kinetic energy that was dragging him across the cold stone floor towards Father Dominic and myself. The human body was no match for supernatural powers. I'd bet my Jimmy Choos that Harold wished that he had taken this into account right now.Harold's own kinetic powers were building up too, if the way the candlebras shook on the walls were anything to go by.

I backed out of the way as they came towards the circle of candles. Harold managed to twist Paul's body around and when he saw the circle, he began to struggle more. Paul's hand reached out, desperately trying to grab something, anything that would keep him away from the sight before him.

But that wasn't going to work. Not this time.

* * *

**AN - wow! 3202 words. This time before all the extra stuff is added. That's gotta be some sort of record for me. I could have added the exorcism, but I decided to leave it until next chapter. I'm less likely to rush it then.**

**Once again, thank you to all of my readers, and a HUGE thank you to al of my reviewers. And I apologise once again for the mistakes in the last chapter. I'd just got in from a particularly stressfull exam and I guess my brain was still on down time.**

**Disclaimer - You know the deal.**


	17. Exorcising Paul

**Only The Good**

_Sometimes this all feels like a dream.  
I'm waiting for someone to just wake me up,  
From_ _this life._

**_Tha Ataris - The Hero Dies In This One_**

I could do nothing but watch as Stanley's kinetic powers dragged the helpless Harold towards Father Dominic and I. And letme say that Harold was not taking this quietly. He thrashed about, desperately scrabbling around for something to grab on to. By now, the benches were shaking where they stood, and candlebras fell to the floor with a metallic crash.

I don't know how much time had passed before Stanley walked up to Harold and physically dragged him into the circle of candles. It seemed like hours, but in reality it was probably only a fewminutes. I stood there staring at the two men (or should I say man and a ghost), one fighting to get out of the circle, one fighting to get in. Stanley had to actually sit on top of Paul's body to prevent Harold from running off with it. I braced myself, ready to grab Harold if he decided to give up the body. All I needed to do was touch him then shift, then it would all be over an I could crawl into my bed and sleep for a hundred years.

I jumped when I felt two hands grip my shoulders, pulling me back, away from the circle.

"I wouldn't get too close," Layla whispered in my ear. "You obviously have never seen an exorcism such as this one before." I turned to face her and she dropped her hands to her side.

"What do you mean?" I asked. She smiled at me sadly. At first I thought she was taking pity on me for being so stupid, but then she spoke.

"Most spirits don't relinquish their hold on their host so easily," she explained. "They will do anything to get away. Even physically hurt their host. They believe that if whoever is performing the exorcism sees how much damage is being inflicted, they will give up." My eyes darted from the ghost to Paul. I couldn't let this happen. It wasn't worth it, not if he was going to get hurt.

My heartbeat increased tenfold as I heard Father Dominic reading the Latin from his book. Stanley had stepped back, out of the circle and it appeared that he was using his abilities to keep Paul's hands and feet magically 'glued' to the ground. But this didn't stop him from trying to hurt as many people as he could. I had to duck when one of the fallen candlebras flew in my direction. I heard the rush of air as it flew over my head. Instinctively, I reached up and touced my head, feeling for any cuts. Nothing. Instead of standing up, I crawled inbetween two benches and pulled myself up onto the seat. Here, I had a perfect view of what was going on, and I could hide if anything else came flying my way. Jesse obviously had a similar idea, as he appeared by my side. The wound in his head had stopped bleeding but he didn't look all there, if you know what I mean. Not that I blame him, I was exhausted.

I opened my mouth to say something to him when the bench in front of us shifted and slammed into the wall. We could now see everything that was going on. The smoke was now zooming around Paul's form and Harold's struggling did not let up for one second. I saw the hole open up above him. I knew what was up there, and I actually pitied Harold for a moment. My pity was short-lived however, because Harold had broken free from Stanley's telekinetic hold and tried to push himself up. Until Jesse, moving faster than I had ever seen him move, ran towards him and placed a hand on his chest, holding him down to the ground. The fog began to thicken, and tendrils woud down from the hole, circling Harold and Jesse. The tendrils had barely touched Paul's body when Harold let out an ear-splitting scream. I scrambled closer to the circle of candles, narrowly missing a flying cup, to get a closer look at what was happening. And I instantly regretted it. The tendrils of fog seemed to go inside Paul's body and were attempting to drag the intruding soul out. But Harold wasn't giving up without a fight. My eyes were on his face, which was twisted into a pained expression, and suddenly a cut appeared on his cheek. It looked as though the skin had pulled itself apart. A few drops of blood that had stained the side of his tee signalled that these cuts were appearing all over his body.

"Stop it!" I screamed. "You're killing him! You-" I didn't get a chance to finish, because a blinding light suddenly shone from where Jesse's hand lay. Jesse fell backwards, out of the circle and immediately propped himself up onto his elbows to see what was happening. Father Dominic's voice could barely be heard above the screams of Harold, who was now being visibly pulled from Paul's body. The tendrils of smoke wrapped tightly around him and dragged him up towards the hole. At the same time, something fell from the hole and entered Paul's body where the light was. The light vanished and Harold was sucked up into the Shadowland. With a final 'amen', the hole sealed itself up and the chapel was silent once again.

It took a few moments for me to pull myself across the floor to where Paul lay. Father Dominic was already picking up the candles. Paul lay so still, I thought he was dead, at first. Three more cuts accompanied the ones Jesse had given him, but they didn't look half as bad as they had during the exorcism. I didn't want to look at his chest; there was too much blood. Lifting a finger, I was able to check his pulse. It was there, and it was strong. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, only to close again as he groaned in pain.

"Paul?" I asked, unsure if the exorcism had been successful or not.

"What happened?" He asked, attempting to sit up, but falling back instead. "What happened to my chest?" He raised a hand to touch his wound, but cried out in pain when it made contact with it.

"It's a long story," I told him. "Right now we have to get you to the hospital." I was surprised that I could speak, I was smiling so much. He was alive. I would have hugged him if I didn't run the risk of hurting him even more.

* * *

I don't know what happened to Stanley and Layla. When I had torn myself away from Paul, they were gone. I actually hoped, for the first time in my life, that they hadn't moved on yet. I wanted to say goodbye to them. Jesse and I took Paul to the hospital. It was sensible, the both of us needing to be checked up ourselves. It actually turned out that Jesse had been dismissed from the hospital on the understanding that he would rest for the rest of the week, and have someone there to watch over him. Damn, that was one less thing for me to yell at him about. We were given the once-over by the doctors, and it turned out that I had a mild concussion (would you believe it?) and needed two stitches in a cut on my forehead. As is the case with all head injuries, I was forced to remain in the hospital overnight for observation. Jesse didn't need any stitches or medication, just rest. He had suffered no more than a few bruises and a cut that looked worse than it actually was. Paul, on the other hand, was not so lucky. He needed fourteen stitches (I think that it was fourteen) in his chest, two in his head and was on so many painkillers he would be unable to talk for at least forty-eight hours. 

My mother was informed as soon as I was admitted, and she turned up ten minutes later. Apparantly, there had been another earthquake, the epicentre of which had once again been the Mission. The basilica, actually. I smiled at her and made a few lame jokes about it before I felt sleep beckoning. But my mother's questions were not over yet.

"What happened?"

"Who did this to you?"

"Why is Paul Slater here also?"

So, I told her the same story that Paul, Jesse and I had fed the doctors, and the police that they had called. Someone was attempting to break into Dr. Slaski's house, and they attacked me. Paul intervened and got hurt in the process. Then Jesse showed up and fought off the intruder, who then ran off. Genius. I don't think the police were too happy with our descriptions of the attacker, however. Jesse and I were interviewed together, and Paul was too doped up to speak anymore. Needless to say, there is not a chance in hell of any guy looking like our description. If the police understood any of it, that is.

"Well, he was tall, wasn't he Jesse?"

"Not that tall."

"Alright, taller than me."

"And he had blonde hair."

"I thought it was red."

"No, definately blonde."

"Alright, so he was blonde."

"And skinny."

"No, he was muscular."

"I don't think so, _querida_."

"Excuse me, I did _not_ get beat up by the Mr. Muscle man!"

"The who?"

"Never mind...he was skinny, but muscular."

"Brown eyes."

"Big teeth."

"What?"

"Big teeth. Big jawbone, too."

"He had a limp."

"Yeah, he did after I was through with him."

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"What you're doing."

"Hey, if you would just agree with me!"

The police thanked us for out time and practically tripped over each other to get away from us. As soon as they were out of the door, we fell back onto my single bed, laughing like we had never laughed before.

"Well, at least no-one innocent will be arrested," I pointed out, shuffling closer to Jesse. I heard him laugh beside me, and I turned my head to discover that his was already tilted towards me.

"I love you," he told me. I didn't need to be told. The same smile that played across my lips everytime he said those words made an appearance.

"_Te amo_," I replied. He smiled back at me. Whether this was because of what I had said or the fact that I had managed to string two Spanish words together, I didn't know. But he was obviously satisfied with my answer, because he leaned over and kissed me.

"Go to sleep," he instructed, pulling back (unfortunately).

"Yes sir," I giggled, sitting up and moving under the bed covers. Hospitals get really chilly at night. Jesse stayed with me until I fell asleep - which only took a minute or two. As I felt sleep overcoming me, I couldn't help but realise how lucky I was. I was lucky to be alive, and so was Paul, not to mention Jesse. Harold didn't realise that so many people wanted to save me. Jesse, Paul, Father Dominic, Stanley, Layla. To tell you the truth, _I_ never expected so many people to risk their lives to save mine. Except Stanley and Layla who are, obviously, already dead.The last thing I thought before I drifted off was _'I wonder what CeeCee and Adam will make of all this'_.

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**AN - There's more, but I decided to leave it there. The chapter, not the story. There's still a few chapters left :). I always like to end fics like this with a bit of fluff.**

**Again, thank you to my readers and reviewers, I appreciate all of your comments.**

**Disclaimer - The characters belong to Meg Cabot. Well, most of them, anyway.**


	18. In Life or Death

**Only The Good**

_People die, but real love is forever._

**_Evanescence - Even In Death_**

I was discharged from the hospital as soon as I woke up (after a quick check-up, of course). The nurse told me to take it easy over the next few days and get 'lots of bed rest'. Considering I will be spending the next few days camping out on Jesse's couch - whether or not he likes the idea - I relished in the fact that I had been told by a professional to get 'bed rest'. But you know, there's the whole getting-past-second-base thing. But whatever, a girl can dream, can't she?

I spent about half an hour in Paul's room before my mom came to pick me up. He was looking a lot better than he was last night, although he was fast asleep. By the looks of it, his parents and little brother had visited; a bag full of clothes lay beside his bed and a crudely-drawn card signed by Jack stood on the top of his bedside cabinet.

My mom made a huge fuss over me when she arrived. She talked so much that it gave me a migraine. Something I pointed out to her, only to cause her to apologise profusely, exacerbating the situation. She informed me that I would not be returning to school for the rest of the week, something I found hard to complain about.

"The last thing we want is for you to get worse," she told me, pulling away from the hospital. Jesse hadn't been there when I woke up, much to my disappointment. The only explanation was that he had returned to his apartment. Alone. Which reminded me.

"Um, mom."

"Yes, honey?" I flinched. But she had probably been terrified when she heard I had been attacked, so I think she deserved the privilege to call me whatever she wanted for the rest of the day.

"Um...Jesse was discharged from the hospital with the understanding that someone would be there to look after him." I tried to keep my voice as casual as possible, but it was shaking.

"Yes?"

"Well, he has no family, and there is no-one to stay with him, so..." I trailed off, hoping that my mother would suggest it before I had to ask. She sighed and reached over the gearstick to place a hand on mine.

"So you want to stay with him until he is better?" She asked. As hard as I tried, I couldn't conceal the smile that played across my lips. "I understand. I remember what it was like to be young and in love." I laughed. I couldn't help it, it was so cliche.

"That really is a beautiful ring," she said, removing her hand from mine. I lifted my left hand up and rubbed my engagement ring. I was amazed that it had survived last night's events, let alone remained unscathed. With all that had happened, I had actually forgotten that Jesse was now my fiance, and no longer my boyfriend. I had always known that I would spend the rest of my life with him (as Madame Zara had also known), but now that I had a ring on my finger, it seemed to finally hit me._ I am going to marry Jesse de Silva, the one-time ghost who used to haunt my bedroom._ How the hell was I going to explain that one to the kids?

"I know," I told her, not even attempting to hide my smile this time.

"I really am happy for you, Suze," she told me, blinking back what I can only assume were tears. "Anyone can tell just by looking at you together that you were made for each other. And...I can tell by the way that you look at each other that there is more to your relationship than you are telling people. I just hope that one day you will tell me." This time, it was _my_ eyes that filled with tears.

"One day," I spoke softly. I didn't like lying to her, I really didn't. But I didn't think that she could handle the truth. Not many people could. Gina had always stood by me and was there when a psychic told me what I was, CeeCee had trusted me enough to believe and had even witnessed a ghost's (namely Jesse's) wrath and David...well he had an open mind, and had been approached by Jesse once. My mom has always been sceptical about that sort of stuff. I figured that one day, the timing would be right and I would be able to tell her everything. I just regretted that this hadn't been before my father had moved on. To know that your daughter has been able to communicate with the dead since she was two years old was a big enough shock itself. But to know that she was about to marry a guy who had once been a ghost until she travelled back through time and accidentally brought his body forward? I just wanted her to know the truth, not have a nervous breakdown.

We remained in silence for the rest of the journey. When I returned home, David wanted to know everything that had happened and Jake just wanted to know if I was alright. Brad, on the other hand, didn't say a word. He barely even looked at me. I guess that Andy had told them not to say or do anything that would 'upset me'. And basically every word that Brad spoke to me was an invitation to punch his lights out. Andy cooked for us. I can't remember what he cooked, only that it was delicious. Especially after the hospital food that I was forced to choke down this morning before they released me. All that was discussed over dinner was the 'earthquake' and how its epicentre was, once again, in the Mission. In the chapel, no less. Thank God the authorites believed this. Father Dominic had cleaned Paul's blood from the chapel floor, so that nobody got suspicious of anything.

My mother had to help me pack some clothes to take over to Jesse's, because no matter how hard I tried, I could not undo the zip on my bag. I was still exhausted; my sleep had been interrupted by the nurse at eight am for my check-up. I hadn't grumbled at all. When my spare jeans, a skirt and three pairs of shoes (which _were_ neccessary, no matter what my mother said) along with all the essentials were packed, I was ushered into the back seat of her car and she began to drive. Again, not a word was said all the way to Jesse's apartment.

"Now, I just want to make a few things clear before I leave you," she said once she had pulled up to the building. I groaned. I knew what was coming. She gave me the same speech everytime that I visited my boyfriend. I knew it so well that I could move my mouth in time to her words.

"I know that you are young, and in love, and are basically a slave to your hormones - Susannah, please stop doing that." I closed my mouth and smiled sheepishly. She just sighed at me and continued. "I also know that you are a responsible young woman, and will take the neccessary precautions should you two feel the need to..." As she trailed off, my mouth fell open (again) in shock. That bit was new...usually she was all 'sex is bad...don't have sex'.

"Mom!" I gasped, utterly astonished at her. She turned to look at me like _I_ was the mad one.

"Suzie, I'm serious," she said. "I don't want you to become another contribution to this nation's growing teen pregnancy problem." I shook my head, even more astonished than before.

"It's not that, it's just...you," I spluttered. "You've always told me not to."

"I know, but I realise that you are seventeen years old, and-"

"Forget it, mom. I don't want ot hear it," I interrupted, saving us both from a lot of embarassment. "Besides, even if Jesse wasn't too injured to 'you know', we couldn't. He's...not like that. I guess he's the abstinence kind of guy. He's too much of a gentleman to...what the hell am I doing? I don't want to talk about this with my mother! Goodbye." And on that note, I grabbed my bag and bolted out of the car. I swear I heard my mother sniggering in the driver's seat.

I heard her pull away as I entered the apartment building. One of the other tenants was just returning home, so I didn't need to buzz up. Which was a good job, I wasn't so sure that Jesse would be too happy with my playing nurse. Any other guy would, but Jesse's not like other guys. To say that he looked surprised when he opened his door and saw me standing there, in all my beaten-up glory, was one hell of an understatement.

"_Querida_, what are you doing here?" He asked, taking my bag off me and leading me inside. "I tried to call you, but your stepfather said that you had just left." Thank God mom hadn't told Andy.

"Well," I said, putting on the most authoritative tone that I could manage, "the hospital only discharged you with the understanding that someone would be here to look after you. And as I am also unable to attend school for the rest of the week, it seemed fitting that I be that someone."

"Susannah, I-" he started, looking uncertain. But I walked up to him and placed a finger on his lips.

"Well, let me put it this way," I told him, my voice sounding moreintimidating than I had intended it to. "Either you let me stay here to look after you or you go back to the hospital, it's as simple as that." His look of uncertainty grew but he nodded and said that I could stay. I smiled. Yet another victory for Suze!

He put my bag in the spare room, which had been cleaned up a lot since I was last here. Unfortunately, there was still no bed so it was agreed (alright, _argued_, but sleeping on the sofa would only hurt his ribs more) that he would sleep in his own bed and I would take the sofa. To my surprise, he actually suggested that we both share his bed, but I had to decline (with great effort, may I add) because I am known to kick in my sleep when I am stressed, and the last thing I wanted to do was break his ribs again. Especially when they were almost fully healed.

When we returned from the spare room, I was surprised to see that we were not alone. Stanley and Layla sat on Jesse's sofa, looking happier than I've ever seen them.

"Did you hear the news?" Layla asked, jumping up and grabbing me by the shoulders. I shook my head. What news? She turned to look at Stanley, who had also stood up and made his way over to us.

"It seemed that Kurt was unable to live with the knowledge that he had killed Layla," he told us, grinning like a madman. "So he turned himself into the police. He said that he blacked out, but when he came around he was covered in her blood. He is being charged with murder and..." He trailed off as he gazed lovingly at his girlfriend. Layla giggled.

"Stanley is being pardoned," she said, obviously exstatic.

"That's great news!" I exclaimed, unable to conceal a little smile of my own. I noticed for the first time that the couple were slowly fading.

"We just wanted to say thank you," Stanley said. "For all you have done for us."

"And sorry for getting you caught up in all of this," Layla laughed. "Tell that Paul boy that we are sorry for what happened to him." Her voice was faint and barely audible. By now, the two ghosts were completely transparent.

"Goodbye," they said in unison. Jesse and I bid them farewell before they vanished completely. We remained in silence for God knows how long before I finally spoke.

"You know," I said, seatng myself on the sofa. "At first I thought that they were never meant to die. I thought that I would have to go back and save them."

"I think they just wanted to be together," Jesse told me. "In life or death."

I smiled and reached into my pocket for my cellphone. I had promised Father Dominic that I would call him when I got discharged to let him know that I was alright. I really must have looked a mess last night. I also needed to call CeeCee and Adam, who had both left equally frantic messages on the house answering machine, demanding to know what happened. My fingers sunk into the soft fabric of my jacket only to find a quarter. My mother must have packed it with the rest of my stuff. When I said this out loud, Jesse offered to bring it in to me, him already beingon his feet. Imagine my surprise when he returned two minutes later, not with my phone, but with an unopened packet of condoms.

"Susannah, what is this?" He asked, trying and failing todisguise the amusementin his voice. Of course he knew _what_ they were, he just didn't know what they were doing in my bag, which was where he told me he had found them. My mouth fell open for the second time in as many hours as I tried to think of how they got in there. Then it all became clear.

"Mom," I spat, feeling my face burn. Boy was she going to get it when I returned home. I was surprised that my head didn't explode, I was so furious. It didn't help that Jesse was laughing so hard he had to lean against the doorway. So, I walked over to him and wrenched the packet from his grip.

"This is _not_ funny!" I half-yelled. But he obviously seemed to think it was. I was so tempted to punch himbut, given his current condition, I changed my mind. I stomped (yes, stomped...I can be so childish when I choose to be) into the spare bedroom, pushed the packet into the top of the bag and reached into one of the side pockets to withdraw my phone. With every second that passed, the situation became less amusing and more hurtful. I mean, I wanted to put them to use, I really did. But I couldn't. And here he was, laughing at me because of it. On some level, it hurt. I guess that this hurt must have shown, because he stopped laughing and pulled me to my feet.

"Susannah, don't be like that," he said, trying to hold me, but I placed my hands on his chest and refused to let him get close. "I'm sorry, its's just that your mother has always been so...It's out of character for her." I looked up at him, and immediately stopped fighting him. That's why I never look at him when we are arguing; one look into his eyes and I melt. Suze disappears, and in her place is a big pile of goo. That's what I felt like right now as he pulled me to him, flinching a little when our bodies touched. I rested my head on his shoulders and wrapped my arms around him.

"Don't worry," he whispered. "We don't have to wait much longer." I don't know much that happened after that, only that I must have fallen asleep in his arms because I woke up twenty-eight hours later (yes, _twenty-eight_!) in his bed. Maybe things would get better. We had learned a lot from Stanley and Layla, and even Harold. I was glad that they came to us. Of all the mediators in Carmel, they chose little old me. Somewhere inside of me, I felt as if they were sent to us. Jesse and I were closer than ever because of them. We owed them a lot, but hey had moved on and there was nothing more that we could do about it. Exceptpray that wherever they are now, they are happy together.

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**AN - I chucked that one out pretty quick, didn't I :). I don't like this chapter, but whatever, lol. I needed to explain what happened to Stanley and Layla.With my next fic, I am definately going to try and make the chapters longer.**

**This isn't the end yet, there is definitelytwo more chapters left. I could make a sequel if enough people wanted it :). But for where I'm going with this fic, I think I can round it up in two chapters...let the fluff begin! Again, thank you to all of the reviewers, and my readers...you guys are the best cure for writer's block. :)**

**Disclaimer - All of my characters are gone now, so Meg Cabot owns all. Except the story.**


	19. Kissing Jesse

**Only The Good**

_**Epilogue -** Kissing Jesse_

_Flashbacks are in italics._

I looked at my reflection in the mirror above the dressing table. Hmm, I guess I looked alright. I lifted a hand and smoothed down my dark hair. Just my luck. Our first _real_, _proper_ date, and I have a bad hair day. A wholefortnight has past since Paul's exorcism and the night that the whole Stanley/Layla/Harold affair came to an end. Jesse was fully healed now (apart from a few bruises), as was I. Paul is back home and on the mend. Needless to say, we had a lot of explaining to do when he was taken off the sedatives. But he seemed satisfied with our description of the events and didn't even threaten to hunt any of us down after his release. Jesse and I would be returning to shcool on Monday (Paul still had at least another weeks worth of recovery ahead of him), so we were determined to make the most of the time that we had left.

I groaned in frustration as yet another strand of hair popped up, giving my hair that I-don't-own-a-hairbrush look that I _so_ didn't want today. In frustration, I grabbed a bottle of hairspray, closed my eyes, and squirted the stuff everywhere. I coughed and spluttered as the damn stuff clung to my face and seeped into my open mouth. Great, now my hair had the consistency of cardboard and my face felt like leather. And not the soft porsche-leather. I'm talking about the just-been-ripped-from-a-cow leather. Without further ado, I filled the sink in my bathroom and dipped my head into it, washing out the sticky stuff, whilst scrubbing my face with a make-up wipe. Jesse was due to arrive any minute, so I was kind of panicking. Because Jesse is never late. In fact, he is almost always early.

It only took me two minutes to wash my hair and I blow dried it quicker than I have ever done before. To my complete amazement, my hair fell perfectly, resting on my newly-tanned shoulders. I didn't even need to dig out the straighteners. Thanks to the water, however, my make-up was a lost cause, so I removed the black stains from around my eyes with another make-up wipe, hastily produced from an open packet on my window seat. I barely had time to slather on some mosturiser (the hairspray dried my skin out so much it was beginning to flake) before my mom shouted for me.I allowed myself ten seconds primping time before jogging downstairs to meet my fate.

"Wow!" Jesse exclaimed as he looked me up and down, taking in everything from my cute green slip dress (to match my eyes) to my black heels. "You look...wow." I smiled at the compliment. I'd made him speechless, now_ that_ ladies and gentlemen, is an acheivement.

"Why, thank you, sir," I replied, throwing in a courtsey for dramatic purposes. He smiled and reached for my hand, planting a tender kiss on it. I couldn't help shivering slightly as he did so. So sue me, I'm only human. And seventeen years old at that. I can't begin to comprehend the numbers of hormones which make my life a living hell every single day. But it didn't matter. Not when I had Jesse.

"So, where are you taking me?" I enquired as he led me to hiscar, his hand wrapped gently around my own.

"You will have to wait and see," he replied as he opened the passenger door for me. I thanked him and slid into the seat, checking my hair in the rear-view mirror once I was settled. The wind hadn't affected it at all.

We talked about a lot of things on the journey. Insignificant things. It reminded me of when he was a ghost, and he used to ask me all these random questions. Except back then it was about stuff that I knew nothing about, and, quite frankly, didn't care about. But now it was different. We talked about movies (I had managed to get him to enjoy some of my favourites, much to my surprise) and music, you know...normal stuff. It was enough to cause me to forget that he was born before my grandparents.

As he drove, I gazed out of the window. The sun was setting and the road we drove along afforded us with a gorgeous view of it. It didn't take me long to realise that we were driving in the same direction as Paul's grandfather's house. I know that there are a few restaurants along Scenic Drive, but they are all...expensive is the wrong word, but they certainly aren't cheap. I shifted uncomfortably as we pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant called _Eden. _It was an Italian restaurant. I know this because it is where Andy took my mom for their first wedding anniversary. She wouldn't shut up about the place for days. I was flattered that Jesse would take me toa place like this. I was also annoyed because I knew how much it would probably cost, and Jesse was no rich rancher's son anymore. I was silently glad that I had brought my purse with me. I had enough to cover whatever it would cost. Hey, I'm not going to pay for it all! I have some dignity left.

As usual, Jesse opened my door for me and helped me out of the car (I actually needed help this time...it has been a while since I wore heels this high and it seemed very difficult to find my feet). Once I was out, and the door was closed, he slid his arm around me and led me towards the restaurant door.

"I told you I would take you somewhere nice," he said, holding the door open for me. "And I know you like Italian food." I just continued to smile. The restaurant look nice outside, but it looked magnificent inside. It was all whites and creams with red tablecloths and chairs.

"I would have been happy at Pizza Hut," I told him, my smile affecting my voice a little. He laughed, but it was devoid of humour. He refrained from saying anything, but I knew that he was probably thinking that I deserved better than Pizza Hut. Which would, had he said it, have caused me to recite everything good about Pizza Hut. Including the salad bowls, which reduced the guilt that you felt by scoffing down half of a meat feast pizza. But this was just as good. I could eat a whole pizza here, and somehow convince myself that it is a posh restaurant, so the pizza would be devoid of all things fatty. Hey, it works! But once we were seated, and I picked up the menu, my jaw dropped.

_Conchigliette saltate con cime di rapa e salsiccia dolce_

_Galetto croccante al mattone con spinaci saltati_

_Filetto di branzino alla griglia con zucchine_

_Paillard di pollo alla griglia_

Ok...what? It was all in Italian. I took French, and I can't speak a word of that either. How the hell am I supposed to know what I'm eating? Jesse must have noticed the look of blind panic on my face, because he pointed to the otherpage of the booklet, onwhich the menu was typed out in English. I could feel my cheeks burning as he smiledin amusementwhen I thanked him. Way to go, girl. I had never heard of half of the stuff before, but it all sounded gorgeous. But, to play it safe, I ordered pasta, and so did Jesse. No _antipasti_ for us today.

After the food menu came the wine menu. Wine? Um...seventeen here. When I told the waitress that we were both underage (though, technically, Jesse wasn't...but that would have taken some explaining) she blushed and apologised. I was flattered that I looked older than I was, especially tonight after the hairspray fiasco. So, instead of vino bianco, I settled for a glass of Diet Coke.

"Thank you," I said once the waitress had brought us our drinks. Jesse looked at me with amusement as I attempted to fish the lemon out of the top of my glass. Instead of hooking it out, I kept pushing it further under.

"For what?" He asked, leaning over and removing it in one go. I laughed sheepishly as he placed the lemon on one of the spare serviettes.

"For taking me out," I replied as if it was obvious. Which, in fact, it was. "It means a lot to me."

"You're my girlfr-fiancee," he told me, changing the word at the last minute. I guess that it was still sinking in for him, too. "What do you expect?" He smiled as he said this last part and it caused me to blush.

He had been right. About everything to do with Stanley and Layla. Because of them, our relationship was stronger that it ever had been. Even fellow pupils had commented on how happy we both looked. Not together, though. Just individually. And now everybody knew about our engagement. Brad thought that it was 'disgusting' how everyone thought it was so sweet. Kelly was stunned, to say the least. I guess she thought that Jesse would soon realise that I was not the kind of girl that guys like him could be with. He did realise this, actually, but he didn't care. Girls literally threw themselves at him, but he ignored them. He only had eyes for me, so to speak. Imagine what _that_ did to my ego.

I haven't even started planning a wedding (which will not happen for at least another year) yet, but already have a maid of honour. When Gina found out about the engagement, she called me and told me that if she wasn't my maid of honour, she would never ever ever ever ever ever ever (etc. etc.) speak to me again. Apparantly she's flying out again this spring. She wants to meet 'the boyfriend'. I told her that she technically already had, but she said that it wasn't the same. Which is kind of true, seeing as last time they shared a room, he ended up soaking her clothes in my best nail polish. Something she didn't know, and would probably never find out.

Dinner was amazing. All we did was talk about us. About the way things had been and the way things were now. Then we got on to the way things would be. I grilled him about what he wanted to happen in the future, and found out some interesting answers. As far as kids went, he wanted at least two, a girl and a boy, the same as what I wanted. The only problem was that he said that there was no limit to the amount of kids he would like. I draw the line at four...maybe five. As far as a location for the wedding went, he said that he didn't mind, but it would be nice if it were to happen at the Mission, and Father Dominic was to perform it. I wasn't so sure. I mean, lots of things have happened there. I have nearly got crushed, murdered, beaten up, permanently exorcised, clobbered by Father Serra's flying head and crushed by astray Virgin Mary statue in the vicinity of the Mission. Besides, getting married in your school would be kind of weird. Even though it wouldn't be _in_ the school, so to speak.

By the time _dolce_ arrived (tiramisu for me), wewere all talked out.But not too talked out, I noticed, to argue about the bill. Eventually we decided that Jesse would pay for the food (actually, there was no _deciding_ involved...Jesse is really stubborn) and I would leave the tip. Let me just say that I tipped very generously that night.We were out of there and on our way home faster than you could say _arrivederci_. The sun had already set by the time we returned to Jesse's apartment, much to my chagrin. I was hoping that we could have went down to the beach and watch it, the way we had done the night he proposed. But I guess that my luck had worn out for the time being. There were still a few hours left until my curfew was up (my mom was ok with practically encouraging me to have sex by hiding a packof you-know-whats in my bag, but she wasn't ok with me staying out with my boyfriend past midnight).

Although Jesse's apartment was currently devoid of a T.V., he did have a radio (so now he could mess up his _own_ CD collection). For a guy who was born before my grandparents, hehas surprisingly good taste in music. Madonna remained a favourite, along with Shakira (what a surprise) and also stuff like 3 Doors Down and Foo Fighters. Thankfully, he despised Britney Spears and Coldplay. I stood flicking through radio channels for five minutes while he called his employer for some reason that I couldn't care less about. I paused on one channel which was currently playing Destiny's Child when I felt someone looking at me. Turning around, I saw Jesse leaning against the doorframe, just smiling in my direction.

"What?" I demanded, leaving the radio alone. The song playing was 'Brown Eyes'. Wasn't that an album song? Why was it playing on the radio?

"Have I told you how beatiful you look tonight?" He asked, walking over to where I stood. I blushed slightly and placed my arms around his neck. I felt his hands move to my waist as I did so.

"Well...you did say that I looked 'wow'," I reminded him, grinning insanely. I moved closer to him and started to sway in time to the music. It was a very ironic song.

**_Remember the first day that I saw your face?  
Remember the first day that you smiled at me?  
You stepped to me and then you said to me  
I was the woman you dreamed about._**

"That was an understatement," he said as I removed my hands and slid my arms under his, so that they were wrapped around him. I smiled up at him. Why does he have to be so tall? And so handsome? If he wasn't holding me, I would have fell to the ground. My legs had somehow ceased to function properly. I could feel them shake with every step that we took as we danced to the music.

**_Remember the first day that you called my house?  
Remember the first day when you took me out?  
We had butterflies, though we tried to hide it  
And we both had a beautiful night._**

"Well, you don't look too bad yourself," I mumbled, resting my head on one of his broad shoulders. I had removed my coat, and my dress was thin and had only two thin straps holding it up, but suddenly I was burning up. Although his heat was coursing through my body, I pressed myself closer to him and he shifted his grip on me slightly.

**_The way we held each other's hand  
The way we talked, the way we laughed  
It felt so good to find true love  
I knew right then and there you were the one_**

I smiled at the lyrics to the song. 'Ironic' was putting it lightly. The song seemed to take me back to all the time that we spent together when he was a ghost. There were two or three months between us getting together and him getting a body. One moment in particular came drifting into my conciousness. It was September, aweek or two after Paul and Jesse's fight, and the day Jesse and I had became a couple.

_The sunset was beautiful. Ribbons of orange and crimson stretched out across the horizon. When they said that my room had the best view in the house, they weren't kidding._

_What would make this moment more perfect would be sharing it with Jesse. If he didn't have that silly idea that he had to live in the rectory now that we were 'together', we could be sharing this moment. I wonder if he knew what he was missing._

_It was just as I was thinking this, that the man in question materialized next to me. I didn't even jump this time._

_"You called?" He said. I smiled. Of course I hadn't called him. I had only thought about him. Which was all it took to bring him racing to my side._

_"All I did was think about you," I told him, still smiling. He was smiling too, although he was looking out to the ocean, so I'm not sure if it was directed at me. "It's beautifil, isn't it?"_

_"Next to you, it's nothing," he replied, lying back on the pine needle-strewn roof. I blushed furiously. Were all guys this romantic back in the eighteen hundreds?_

**_I know that he loves me 'cause he told me so  
I know that he loves me 'cause_ _his feelings show_****  
_And he's missin' me if he's not kissin' me_****  
_You see how he is so deep in love._**

_I looked over at him, gazing at me with what I hoped was adoration in his eyes. You have no idea how great it feels, to have someone love you this much. I loved feeling adored._

_I shimmied further towards him and then stretched out myself, lying back and resting my head on his chest so that our bodies made a 'T' shape on the roof. I felt his chest shudder as I lay my head down. I guess I had the same effect on him as he did on me. I placed my left arm across my stomach and he placd his left hand on top of mine._

_I couldn't see the sunset anymore, but I didn't care. To anyone who was to look through my bedroom window, it would have appeared that I was holding my head at a very unusual angle. But no-one would. Andy had put a lock on my bedroom door, at my request, and it was currently in use, so I did not have to worry about anyone spying on me._

_We lay there in silence for what seemed like an eternity when I rolled onto my left side so that I was facing Jesse. I smiled at him in what I hoped was a seductive manner, but I'm sure it was more on the goofy side. He sat up, forcing me to drag myself to my knees, and gently stroked my cheek with the backs of his fingers._

_"Susannah, I-" He started. He sighed as he cut himself off. He raised his eyes to meet mine and I saw something in them that I had never seen in anybody's eyes before. He seemed desperate to say something, but he was having trouble getting it out. I thinkI knew what it was. And also why he was not saying it. It was this whole 'I'm dead and you're not...you deserve better' thing. The guy must have no self esteem. Can't he see that he is the only guy out there that I could ever feel this way about? He treated me with respect, he was kind, caring, he laughed at my lame jokes, comforted me when I cried. How could I not love a guy like that?_

_I raised a hand and cupped the side of his face._

_"Ssh," I whispered, moving my face towards his. "Please don't disappear like you usually do." He came the rest of the way, pressing his soft lips against mine. But one minute, I was kissing the man of my dreams, and the next I was kissing air. I groaned in frustrtion when I saw that he had vanished. Then I heard soft laughter behind me._

**_I know that he loves me 'cause it's obvious  
I know that he loves me 'cause it's me he trusts  
And when he stares at me, you see he cares for me  
And when he looks at me, his brown eyes tell it so_**

_"What the hell did you do that for?"I asked, turning around to see him standing a foot behind me. He walked over to where he had be sitting a moment before and knelt in front of me._

_"Querida, you are not the only one who can tease," he laughed, holding my chin between his thumb and forefinger. He kissed me again, but I did not react. At least not at first. I was mad at him for making fun of me, so I refused to let him win me over this easily. But as soon as his lips touched mine, the fuse deep inside of me had been lit. And before you could say 'Guy Fawkes', I had parted my lips, allowing him full access to my mouth. I could feel the corners of his leips curl slightly as he kissed me. Boy was he going to get it when this kiss was over. Actually, I will just tell him off...talk to him...oh God, why does he have to be such a good kisser? I'm not even mad at him anymore._

_I lost myself in the kiss, hundreds of feeling that words cannot describe coursing through my tired, aching body. I let myself down onto my backside so that I was able to move closer to him, but he pushed me back, not breaking the kiss for one second. Now, I was on my back, Jesse beside me, his body turned towards mine. The hand that had been caressing my cheek slowly ventured down to my waist and I ran my left hand up and down his arm, my thumb skimming along his bicep. I was too delerious to do much, but Jesse obviously was not. Deepening the kiss (I did not think that was possible), he slowly moved his hand an inch or two higher, his fingers slipping beneath my top. I was surprised, to say the least. He had punished himself for weeks after he had kissed me for the first time, yet now he was trying to cop a feel? Not that I was going to stop him, mind you. I just thought that it was a little odd._

**_Remember the first day, the first day we kissed?  
Remember the first day we had an argument?  
We apologized, and then we compromised  
And we haven't argued since._**

_His hand roamed higher and I shifted slightly beneath him. I suddenly felt as if the temperature had risen about five or ten degrees. And Jesse did not give off heat, so I could think of no logical explanation for what was happening to me. I had never felt like this before. Not even when Paul tried to do exactly the same thing to me. Whatever it was, it was because of Jesse. I dug my fingernails into his shoulder slightly, forgetting for a moment that he could still feel pain. It seemed as if it was the only way that I could cool down. But he showed no sign of even feeling my accidental attack. He was too far gone, too lost in the kiss. And to be honest, Iwas surprised that Iwas still capable of intelligent thought right then. My body shuddered involuntarily as his hand reached its destination. The top that I was wearing was self-supporting, so there was nothing to hinder his progress. The temperature soared another few degrees and I moved my hand from his shoulder up to his head. His touch was so gentle.Now, he was kissing me enthusiastically, although it was still gentle and romantic. I loved him so much. As if automatically, his name was wrenched from my lips._

_"Jesse."_

_As I ran my hands through his soft, thick hair, he broke off the kiss, removing his hand as though he had suddenly been bitten. He sat back and ran his own hand through his hair, panting almost as heavily as I was._

_"I am so sorry," he gasped, completely astonished with himself for some strange reason. "I don't know what came over me."_

**_Remember the first day we stopped playing games?  
Remember the first day you fell in love with me?  
It felt so good for you to say those words  
'Cause I felt the same way too_**

_"What?" I panted, breathing heavily and very erratically._

_"I should not have insulted you like that," He said, staring at me with a desperate look in his eyes. I didn't have a clue what he was talking about._

_"Insulted?" I asked, very confused. "Hey, insulted is the last thing I feel." But this obviously wasn't enought to end his current mental anguish._

_"I took advantage of you, I should have had more control over myself." I sighed._

_"Jesse, nothing you do can be classed as taking advantage of me," I assured him. "I'm all yours. Mind, heart, body and soul. And besides, _that_ wasn't taking advantage of me." But, again, he was too far gone._

_"I should not have done that. I apologise, querida." This guy is impossible. I shuffled closer to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it away._

_"Please, don't," he pleaded. "You have no idea what your touch does to me." I was about to say "right back at'cha", but I didn't think that it was appropriate._

_"I...Jesse, please don't beat yourself up over this," I begged him. It was the first time he kissed me all over again. Except back then, he hadn't been stroking my - alright, I'll stop right there. But the thing was, I had felt something amazing back there. Something I had never felt before. And I _liked_ it. I told him this, but he just looked at me with an extremely panicked look on his face._

_"I am really sorry, querida," he apologised, yet again. "It won't happen again. I can't promise it, but I will try my best." I groaned._

_"Don't say that," I said, moving closer and placing my head on his chest, inviting him to wrap his arms around me. He did, slowly but surely. His embrace was loose, but there nonetheless. He kissed the top of my head, apologised once more, and then dematerialised, leaving me alone on my rooftop once again._

**_The way we held each other's hands  
The way we talked, the way we laughed  
It felt so good to fall in love  
I knew right then and there you were the one_**

_The sun had already set. Although I was alone, a smile played across my lips as I straightened my top and climbed back into my bedroom. I tried to feel ashamed when I prayed that Jesse would lose control of his upstairs brain again, but I couldn't. I am so going to hell._

I smiled. Back then, that was the greatest night of my life. Now it was just another great night with Jesse.

**_I'm so happy, so happy that you're in my life and baby  
Now that you're a part of me you've shown me  
Shown me the true meaning of love (the true meaning of love)  
And I know he loves me_**

The song was almost over, and so, therefore, was our dance. As Beyonce sang the last line, I felt him hold me tighter than he had been.

**_He looks at me and his brown eyes tell it so._**

He was as disappointed as I was when the song ended. But we did not pull apart. Instead, helowered his lips to mine. It was amazing what one kiss from this man could do to me. It reminded me of a song I had once heard._ 'Fill up my heart with love, oh_ y_ou'd be amazed how little I need from him to feel complete here and now...One drop of love from him and my heart's in ecstasy'._ I had not felt this way when Paul and Tad had kissed me. And I'm sure that it wasn't because they were bad kissers, because they certainly were. Good kissers, I mean. When Jesse kissed me, he actually meant it. I could feel all of the emotions behind it. It was not his lips that had that explosive effect on me. It was him.

And that was when I realised. It didn't matter that our relationship wasn't all that physical. It didn't matter that kissing was the only expressing of our love that we did. Because, like Jesse said, we didn't have to wait much longer. I knew that his abstinence wasn't out of religion (he had told me once that he had lost most of his faith long ago), but purely out of respect for me. It was touching. And to tell you the truth, I had waited seventeen years to meet a guy this good. One more wouldn't hurt.

But I chose not to think about it. Because when you're kissing Jesse, you don't want to miss a moment of it.

* * *

**AN - Wow, longest chapter yet. And...it was the last one. I know that I said two, but seeing as I am planning on doing a sequel, I figured that I could finish this one in one. I'm terrible at fluff, lol. But I hope that you enjoyed it. I will do a sequel, seeing as some people have said that they would read on :). Yes, it will be around the wedding. I know it's probably a bad idea, what with the amount of wedding fics out there, but whatever. I can try and make it different :). Lyrics come from Brown Eyes by Destiny's Child. I'm not the R'n'B kind of girl, but I love that song. And the song that Suze thinks of at the end is I Want Love by Akira Yamaoka and Mary Elizabeth McGlynn from the game Silent Hill 3. It's a beautiful song...listen to it if you can find it :).**

**And now for my reviwers...thank you all...you keep me writing (don't curse youselves too much ;) ). I would reply individually right now, but there are so many, so I will thank you all as one. THANK YOU! And thank you to all of my readers who have not reviewed for...well, readingthis fic:). I will try and reply personally to reviews next time, I swear. I appreciate every one.**

**So, now that it's over...hit that button. If you do, Jesse will declare his undying love for you. Not really, but a girl can dream, right? Let's see if we can make100.**

**Until next time...**


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